Learning to Live
by Arbitrary Blackness
Summary: Rebecca Sanders has a good life ahead of her. Her cousin is Captain of the Enterprise, and she herself is a senior medical officer aboard the Excalibur. But when her life takes a dramatic shift, she is left to pick up the pieces, learning to live again.
1. Chapter 1

**Learning to Live**

_By: Arbitrary Blackness_

_A __Star Trek 2009__ Fan Fiction Piece_

DISLCAIMERS:

_Star Trek_ and _Star Trek 2009 _© Gene Roddenberry, J.J Abrams and Paramount Pictures

Rebecca Sanders © Arbitrary Blackness

Anything and everything else © respective owners

NOTES: Although this is set in the alternate reality established by the latest _Star Trek_ movie, there will be instances wherein events that happened in the prime reality will also happen here, just because they're ridiculously fun. Please take note, though, that instances involving the planet Vulcan and the Vulcan race in general will have to be severely edited, given what happened to the planet and a majority of the race.

Oh, and I know that Kirk was supposed to have a brother, but since I'm playing in the alternate reality I decided to cut him out entirely, since there was no indication of the brother having existed in the first place.

RATING: PG-13/T; might go higher if I feel like it.

TEASER:

Rebecca Sanders has a good life ahead of her. Her cousin, James Kirk, is Captain of the starship _Enterprise,_ and she herself is a senior medical officer aboard the _Enterprise's_ sister ship, the _Excalibur._ But when her life takes a dramatic shift, she is left to pick up the pieces, learning to live again.

**Chapter One**

Uhura collapsed on her bed in her dorm room, her heart numb and cold. The trip back to Earth after the crisis with Nero felt like a blur. There had been celebratory feelings, true, but after the initial high, everything had faded away, and she was left to think on what had been lost: not only in terms of material losses, but in terms of lives.

She turned her head to the side, and looked at the empty bed standing across the room from hers. Gaila's bed was empty – but of course it would be. Her roommate had been assigned to one of the other starships that were sent out when the distress signal from Vulcan had arrived. Those starships had been destroyed by Nero and his powerful futuristic weapons. There had been no survivors from that encounter except the _Enterprise,_ which had arrived late on the scene and hence had been spared.

The intercom on the outside of her room beeped, and a soft, worried voice drifted in. "Uhura? Nyota, it's me."

Uhura closed her eyes, not wanting to respond. She didn't think she wanted anyone near her right now.

"Sorry, but I'm coming in."

Uhura heard the door sliding open then, but the footsteps that followed were relatively silent. She only opened her eyes when she felt her bed shift, and when she did so, she found herself gazing up a very familiar pair of blue eyes.

She smiled wanly. "Hey Becky."

Rebecca Sanders smiled back, but it was a worried smile, the one she got when she thought Uhura was working too hard or wasn't feeling too good. "Hey yourself."

Uhura sat up slowly, knowing why Rebecca was here. If it had been anyone else, Uhura would have asked that person to leave. But since it was her best friend, she welcomed Rebecca's presence, though somewhat reluctantly. And besides, she knew Rebecca would have come in anyway even if she wanted to be left alone. Better to spare them both an argument.

"How're you doing?" Rebecca asked, placing a hand on Uhura's knee: a gesture of comfort, a reminder that they were both alive.

"I don't know," Uhura replied, shrugging her shoulder slightly. "Glad to be alive, but… I don't know. Dead inside, too."

Rebecca nodded, her dark hair shifting slightly in the room lights. "You were lucky."

"I know. But then I think of the others… God, Gaila…" Uhura's hands flew to her mouth, suppressing the choked sob that tried to escape her, but she could do nothing to stop the tears that burst from her eyes. She turned sideways, seeking Rebecca's warmth, and suddenly she was glad that Rebecca was there, that she was alive, that they were _both_ alive.

"I was so happy when I learned you weren't on the _Farragut,_" Rebecca murmured after a while. "I'd heard you'd been assigned to that ship, and when I heard about what happened at Vulcan…" She laughed softly, guiltily. "I was so happy when I knew you were safe_._ I mean, anyone else, I didn't mind, and you can call me cruel for that, but I'm just glad you didn't get caught up in that mess."

Uhura couldn't help but laugh at that. She looked up at her best friend, and gave her a look. "What happened to all those oaths you took, huh?"

Now Rebecca smiled back brightly. "What, you mean the Hippocratic Oath? I'd throw it out the window if I knew it would keep those I valued safe."

"You know, I don't think Captain Harris made a good choice when he allowed you to come on as a trauma medic for the _Excalibur._"

"What're _you_ going to do about it? Tell your boyfriend to request my transfer elsewhere?"

Uhura reached out, and smacked Rebecca with her pillow, to which Rebecca responded by grabbing Gaila's pillow and smacking her in turn. They laughed and went that way for a while, but soon enough, sobriety settled in again, and Rebecca sat down on Gaila's bed, looking at Uhura with the look that said she had something important to say.

"I'm being transferred to the _Excalibur _permanently." Rebecca smiled then, and her eyes glowed. "Dr. Gamble petitioned for me personally, after seeing my work while I was on fellowship."

That was the most wonderful thing Uhura had heard all day, and with a squeal of delight she grabbed onto Rebecca, and hugged her. "Oh my God, Rebecca, that's _great_! And you're working with Dr. Gamble…" She wiggled her eyebrows teasingly. "You sure there's no conflict of interest there?"

"I'd ask the same of you! What's it like, being an officer on the Bridge of the _Enterprise,_ and having your boyfriend nearby? At least _I _can get away from Ethan when I feel my professional façade crumbling. _You_, on the other hand, can't leave the Bridge unless absolutely necessary."

"It's easy when my boyfriend is capable of maintaining his professional stance almost indefinitely."

"You mean he can act like a stick in the mud almost indefinitely."

Uhura let out a sound of mock-disbelief, and smacked Rebecca again, who smacked her back. This time it turned into a full-blown pillow fight, the likes of which had not happened in a long, long time. But it was good: at least, for now, Uhura could forget about the complications of what had recently happened, and instead, focus on just being thankful she was here, now, alive, and able to have a pillow fight with one of her dearest friends.

--+--

Jim Kirk sank down in a chair at the cafeteria, looking – and feeling – downright pleased with himself. What he had just accomplished with the _Enterprise_ and the incident with Nero was more than enough to get that _Kobayashi Maru_ test issue dismissed completely, he was sure. And since that was out of the way, he was also pretty sure that his actions would give him a reward of some sort.

He was thinking big. He was thinking in terms of "Captain." And he would just _love_ to get his hands on the _Enterprise _for himself.

Now that he was thinking on it, maybe he ought to think out whom he wanted on his crew. Scotty was in, definitely: he couldn't think of anyone better to be Chief Engineer. The fact that Scotty was practically head-over-heels in love with the _Enterprise_ settled the decision for him. For Communications Officer, he was definitely keeping Uhura. She was the one who had intercepted that Klingon message, and if she could do _that,_ he was pretty sure she was a damn good choice. Of course, he was keeping McCoy for CMO, even if the man was a grouch sometimes, but hey, he'd gotten Kirk on the _Enterprise_ in the first place, and if it weren't for Bones, he wouldn't be where he was. Plus, Bones was a damn good doctor.

That left the issue of First Officer and Science Officer. Jim knew he couldn't make a better choice than Spock, and the older Spock had said as much, too. But he knew that the choice would ultimately be Spock's, and if he chose not to go, then there was nothing he could do – or maybe not. Kirk figured he could convince the Vulcan, if he tried hard enough…

"This is the first time I've seen you thinking so hard."

Kirk looked up, and grinned brightly as he shifted in his chair, opening his arms to the person approaching. "Becky! Get over here."

Rebecca Sanders smiled, and quickly walked the last few feet before colliding with him hard, almost toppling him out of his chair, and wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. After a while, though, she moved back, and smacked him hard on the chest.

"Ow! What the-"

"You _idiot_!" she exclaimed, blue eyes so much like his own blazing as they looked back at him. "What the _hell_ are you? Suicidal?!"

"Nice to see you're happy I'm alive," Kirk muttered as he rubbed his chest where she'd hit him.

"I _am_ happy, but… God, Jim, do you know how _worried_ I was? Aunt Winona looked for me while I was on the _Excalibur_ and she was crying, Jim, _crying_! And I didn't know what to tell her." She smacked him again for good measure, before plopping down huffily on the chair next to him. "Don't _scare_ me like that!"

Kirk laughed, though his chest still hurt. _That's_ going to leave a bruise, he thought. He'd almost forgotten how hard she could hit. "Hey, call to duty, right? And where the hell were you? I called you but your roommate said you were out."

"I was with my best friend." She continued to maintain an annoyed expression on her face, but after a few moments, she softened, and she reached out to hug him again. "I missed you, Jim."

"Hey," Jim murmured, hugging her again. Rebecca was his cousin, and the closest thing that he had to a sibling. They grew up together in Iowa for a time, before his mother remarried, and in that time he had come to consider her as more a sister than a cousin.

If there was one woman aside from his mother whom Kirk considered most important in his life, it would have to be Rebecca.

He pulled back from the hug, and couldn't help but smile when he saw the tears that flecked on Rebecca's lashes. "Hey, don't cry doll," he said softly, lifting a hand to cup her face and wipe away the tears. "It's all okay now. And I don't like seeing you cry. You look much prettier when you smile."

She smiled then – a vast improvement over the tears, as far as Kirk was concerned. "Don't call me doll. I'm not a toy and I'm not made of porcelain."

Kirk laughed, since that was the standard answer she gave to him whenever he called her "doll." It was a nickname he'd given her when they were children – mostly to get a rise out of her. But now, it was an affectionate sort of name, used only when referring to her, and never to other women. He leaned back, and grinned. "So I hear you're going to be assigned to the _Excalibur._ That's great news, you know."

Rebecca grinned back, and nodded. "I know. And I hear that _you_ are to be commended for what happened." Her grin widened. "Talk's going around that you're going to take Captain Pike's place."

"Yeah, well, that's what I'm hoping for. Hey, you know, if you want, I could have you transferred to the _Enterprise._"

"How sure are you they'll give you the _Enterprise_? I mean, you nearly broke her on her maiden voyage."

"We were getting away from a _black hole,_ Becky. And besides, it's just a couple of cracks."

" 'A couple of cracks'? Try 'close to total hull failure' and you'd get a more accurate description."

Kirk rolled his eyes. "She came back in one piece, didn't she? Plus, considering that most of her crew made it back _alive,_ I think a cracked hull is a better bargain than having everyone onboard die. And soon enough she'll be fit for flight again." He sighed. "Look, I know I made you and Mom worried, and I'm sorry, okay?"

Now Rebecca laughed, and the sound of it made Kirk smile, because it was the laugh that told him she was really okay. "You, sorry for what you did? No way in hell you'd be sorry. You weren't sorry for running your stepdad's car off the cliff, and you aren't sorry for this either."

The conversation took a turn for the better then, with the two of them discussing the future that lay ahead of them both. Though Kirk knew Rebecca had gone into Starfleet with the hopes of following him onto a ship, he knew as well as she did that to serve on the _Excalibur_ was a high honor. She might not have been the _Enterprise,_ but Captain Nathan Harris was a good man, and was known for taking care of his crew. Rebecca would be in very safe hands.

In a moment of silence in the conversation, Rebecca made that little "Oh!" sound she made when she had just remembered something, and Kirk watched as she fished around in her pocket to produce a small stack of tickets.

"These are for you and anyone else you might want to come along," Rebecca said, pride in her voice as she pushed them over to Kirk. He glanced at them, and grinned when he read the details. They were tickets for a grand dance concert, to be staged by the Academy's Dance Troupe, and Rebecca's name was listed as one of the soloists.

"It's for tonight, and I ship out on the _Excalibur_ day after tomorrow_,_" his cousin murmured. "It'll be the last time I dance onstage, so I want you to be there."

"It's not as if it's going to be the last time you'll ever dance," Kirk said as he put a hand on top of hers, "so don't talk as if it were."

Rebecca shrugged. "I know, but I've got to put that part of my life aside for now." She straightened, and Kirk saw the pride in her stance, the determined glow in her eyes. Aunt Jackie, Rebecca's mother and his father's younger sister, always said that they had the same pride and determination in what they did and what they tried to accomplish, and he could see that now.

"After tonight," she murmured, "I'll be Doctor Rebecca Sanders of the _USS Excalibur._ If I dance again…" She smiled a little, and shrugged. "Well, not really _if,_ but _when._"

"Now _that's _what I wanted to hear." Kirk took the tickets, counted them, and put them in his pocket. "I promise to bring a crowd to cheer you on."

"So long as you're not bringing a gaggle of girls, I'll be cool with it."

"Ouch, Becky. I was planning on bringing my entire command staff – just, you know, so you could see the people who're going to be taking care of me while I'm out there. Thought you'd like that."

"_If_ your promotion's made permanent." A sly smile crept onto Rebecca's face. "You planning on bringing Uhura then?"

"Yeah I- Wait, how do you know Uhura?"

"She's my best friend. No need to give her a ticket, I already gave her one when I went to see her."

Talk about a small world, Kirk thought wryly. "Who else do you know on my command staff, since we're on the subject anyway?"

She shrugged. "Give a ticket to Hikaru. It's been a while since I last saw him."

"Hikaru? You mean Sulu? How the hell do you know him?"

"His parents are my godparents. _Lola_ (1) Lupita is related by marriage to someone in Hikaru's father's family, so it was kind of natural that his parents become my godparents. I visit them a lot on weekends, since they live nearby."

"So what does that mean? I'm related to Sulu?"

"Not really, no – though by his family's standards, you would be, since you're related to me."

_That_ was weird. "Okay, just checking." Kirk counted the number of tickets, and knew just whom he was going to invite: Scotty, for one, and Chekov, because the kid had accomplished a miracle by pulling him and Sulu onto the transporter while they were in the middle of freefall. Sulu was getting a ticket, since Rebecca had asked him to, and because he'd saved Kirk's life, too. And definitely McCoy, especially since he figured the man needed a life so he could stop being a grouch, and in Kirk's mind, that meant a woman – Rebecca, in this case, though she didn't need to know _that._

He also thought he should send a ticket Spock's way, then wondered if the Vulcan would show up at all. Well, it doesn't matter if he comes along or not, Kirk thought, but he believed it would be a nice show of friendship if he introduced Spock to someone who was family, particularly someone he'd grown up with and considered a sister. He'd read up on Vulcan culture on the trip back to Earth after the encounter with the _Narada_ and Nero, and he learned that the Vulcans valued family ties - even if, true to form, they didn't show it. Family, as a rule, was not brought up unnecessarily – unless amongst people one trusted. And since the whole point of Spock being around was to show that Kirk now trusted the Vulcan, introducing Rebecca to him would hopefully reinforce the message.

That settled it. He turned to Rebecca, and asked, "Do you know Commander Spock?"

There was something in the way she raised her eyebrow, in the way the left corner of her mouth turned up just so, that made Kirk realize that, not only did his cousin know who Spock was, she knew quite a few details besides that, likely from Uhura. "Sure I do. You inviting him?" This time, the right corner of her mouth went up, and she looked like nothing so much as a mischievous cat that had gotten into a big jug of cream. "I know someone who'd like that."

"Yeah, so do I." Kirk glanced at the digital clock display on the cafeteria wall, and realized that he needed to go. He had a meeting with Starfleet Command in a couple of minutes, and he didn't want to be late, not when there was the possibility that they were going to make his promotion to Captain permanent.

Rebecca sighed as he got out of his seat, but it was a satisfied sigh. "Looks like you got to run, huh?"

Kirk nodded. "Meeting with Starfleet Command." He pulled her in, hugged her tight, and planted a kiss on her brow. "Wish me luck?"

"Good luck." She kissed him on the cheek, and stepped away, smiling. "Keep the ticket stubs after the show, okay? There's going to be an after-party for the Troupe at Fusion (2), so just show those at the front door and they'll let you in."

"Will do. Thanks, Becky."

As he headed off, Kirk couldn't help but grin as he looked at the tickets. After-party, huh? Well, that was _definitely_ enough reason to make sure Spock came along. He wanted to see what it would take to get his stiff-necked future First Officer onto the dance floor.

* * *

NOTES:

1 – _Lola_ means "grandmother" in Filipino. It is never declared for certain if Sulu is indeed Filipino, but since the name "Sulu" itself is also the name of an island in the Philippines, I think it is reasonably safe to assume that Sulu is likely Filipino on his father's side, and Japanese on his mother's (hence the name Hikaru).

2 – Not to be confused with the club of the same name that appears in one of the episodes of _Star Trek: Enterprise._ They might have the same name, and they might be located in the same city, but they are nothing alike.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Spock had never seen Starfleet Academy's Dance Troupe perform before, not even when he himself had been at the Academy. At the time, he had thought it unimportant, a waste of time that was better spent in the lab or in one of the Academy's libraries, conducting experiments or researching into various queries both for his work and for personal pleasure.

Had he known then what he would know later on, perhaps he would have gone to see the Dance Troupe's performances more religiously.

All of that was in the past, he used to tell himself, and despite the proven existence of time travel from personal experience, when he had encountered such opportunities to go into the past he had never made it to this particular point.

Now was different, though. When he had heard that the Dance Troupe was going to be performing, and just who was going to be onstage, he decided to go – mostly because it was going to be the last time he was ever going to see Rebecca Sanders dance.

He remembered her – or at least, the Rebecca who had existed in his reality. When he first met her she had been in her early thirties, the same age as Kirk, for she had been born to his father's sister and her husband only a month after him. Her hair was dark where Kirk's was blonde, but they had the same eyes, and the same spirit burned clearly behind them.

Vulcan though he was, he had found her beautiful: not in a stunning way, for neither she nor Kirk possessed any remarkable features that would qualify extreme comeliness. But just as Kirk had a charisma that made him irresistible to females of many species, Rebecca possessed a liveliness about her that made her seem more alive than any of the females Spock had ever encountered.

And he had responded to that. He had responded to it with such force that it surprised him. He had speculated it was a residual effect of the _pon farr_ – after all, he met her on Altair Six, immediately after the incident with T'Pring (1). But when she stayed aboard the _Enterprise_ for a year to help McCoy train more trauma medics, he quickly realized that what he felt was no residue from _pon farr,_ but something else, far deeper than he had expected. Naturally, he kept everything under control, but it was occasionally difficult, especially since she often came to seek the company of her cousin, and more often than not, Kirk was either with him or with McCoy.

Spock believed what he had been feeling then could have been love – or something very close to it. He had not had the chance to fully explore it, because the idea of pursuing Rebecca romantically was also thoroughly repellent to him – not because she was Human, but because the idea made him nervous, and nervousness was not something he enjoyed feeling. Years and years later, he came to understand that what he felt was natural: the desire to offer such feelings to the person at whom those feelings were directed was always accompanied by the fear of rejection.

It was illogical, but then again, did not Humans say that love had a logic all its own, usually completely incompatible with intellectual logic?

A small smile crossed his mouth, a smile that was unnoticeable except to those who were observing him closely. Fortunately, no one was doing that at the moment, because their attention was drawn to the stage up ahead as the curtain parted for the next performance.

Rebecca – younger than when he first met her – was onstage, her back to the audience, and her hair loose around her shoulders. She was wearing a bright red dress, stitched with gold along the sleeves and skirt. Moments later the music started up: fiery, almost violent, and as she turned to the audience and danced – hair flying, red dress swirling – Spock knew she was trying to convey the emotion of passion, but finely controlled and restrained.

And there was the other reason why he had fallen in love with the Rebecca of his time: talking to her, he had come to learn that feelings were not such a bad thing, as long as one had ways and means of harnessing them. It would take him years, though, to completely understand and accept that fact, but once he did, he knew she had been right all along.

Watching her onstage, now, in the present he now inhabited, she truly was a wonder. Every movement was precisely coordinated to the music, each one carefully controlled so as to give the impression of the flame of passion caged in the flesh of her supple body. How strange, that it would take strict discipline to create the impression of wildness – and yet it made perfect sense.

Finally, with the high singing of violins and the resonant sound of a gong, the music and her dance came to an end, and the audience roared with applause and appreciative shouts and whistles. Spock himself applauded, knowing he would never see such a sight again.

He stayed a while after that, watching one more performance, but the reason he had come here in the first place was to see her dance. He drifted away then, slipping through the crowd, unnoticed and unmarked by anyone. It was the exit he preferred.

As soon as he was out in the open again, he paused, and glanced back at where he had come, and contemplated on possibilities. If he had decided to see a Dance Troupe performance when he was still in the Academy, even just once, then it was possible she would have come to know him earlier. Perhaps they would have become friends. Perhaps it would have given him the time to overcome his own personal conflict and come forward as a suitor. Perhaps they would have become lovers. Perhaps they would have even wed, started a family, with blue-eyed, raven-haired children.

He closed his eyes, and looked away. Such thoughts were illogical. The past was the past, and while he was _in_ the past, so to speak, there was no way he could change it, not now. He was an old Vulcan, and he was needed elsewhere.

Now was not the time for regret. The future of his race – or what was left of it – was of greater import now.

--+--

Leonard McCoy had heard of Club Fusion, mostly from his younger colleagues. They described it as _the_ club to see and be seen, mostly because of the drinks served and the music played. He'd been interested in scoping it out, just once, but the last time he'd dropped by there had been a long line out front, and there was no way he was getting past the bouncer in front of the door unless he was on the guest list or knew someone on the inside.

This time around, though, he had an in, taking the form of Jim Kirk and a bunch of tickets in his hand, courtesy of his cousin, Rebecca. Now that he thought about it, he didn't recall Kirk mentioning a cousin named Rebecca – hadn't ever mentioned that he had a cousin at all. Still, since this Rebecca was in the Dance Troupe, and the Dance Troupe had closed Club Fusion for their own after-party, he supposed that there were some advantages to having that connection.

Next to him, he heard the grin in Pavel Chekov's voice as he remarked, "I've always wanted to come here, but I could never get in."

"Hippest club in town," Hikaru Sulu remarked, and his voice had the tone of one who had been there before, with many fond memories to accompany the visit. "And it's always packed. The last time I was here it was on an invite from a friend who knew someone on the inside."

"This club, it is exclusive then?" Chekov asked.

Sulu nodded. "Like you wouldn't believe. I'm actually impressed the Dance Troupe managed to have the place closed for their personal use." He stood a little straighter. "Too bad Scotty couldn't come. I heard he's been to this place quite a few times before."

McCoy sighed, and glanced at Spock, who, all this time, had been silent. Even during the performance itself, he had been remarkably quiet. "Guess you've never been here either, have you Spock?"

The Vulcan shook his head. "I have never thought it important to visit this place. It certainly was not within my scope of interests."

McCoy rolled his eyes, and looked away. Was he expecting any less? Not damn likely.

They came to a halt in front of the bouncer, and Kirk just grinned, waving their tickets in front of him. "We were invited," Kirk said, in a voice meant to irritate, and McCoy speculated Kirk had tried to get in before – with little success. "Courtesy of Rebecca Sanders."

_That_ got McCoy's attention. He strode over to Kirk as the bouncer stepped aside, granting them entrance to the club. "You know Becky Sanders?"

Kirk nodded. "Sure I do. She's my cousin. How d'you know her?"

McCoy stared at Kirk. "She's related to _you_? Now how the hell is one of the finest trauma surgeons in Starfleet related to a cheating bum like you?"

Kirk glared, and opened his mouth to answer back, but they entered the main part of the club then, and his words were drowned out by loud music and laughter. Something with a Latin beat and flavor to it was playing, and there were several dancers on the floor, most of them moving with an easy, practiced grace. McCoy then remembered that likely, most of them were from the Dance Troupe, and thus, accomplished dancers themselves.

"Jim!"

McCoy turned upon hearing the voice, and watched as a young woman with dark brown hair all but threw herself at Kirk, who caught her in a tight hug.

"Hey Becky," Kirk said as he let her go. "Great party you have going here."

She laughed in response, and turned to McCoy. In turn, he responded with a smile and a wave. "Hi there Becky."

"Leonard!"

McCoy couldn't help but blush as Rebecca closed in and gave him a hug as if they'd known each other all their lives. Most of the males in Medical knew about Rebecca Sanders, and they – except those emotionless Vulcans, of course – had a bit of a crush on her. He was no exception to that rule. Carefully, he moved away from her, smiling down at her as best as he could while trying to hide the fact that he was not impervious to her charms. "Yeah, uh… Thanks for the welcome."

"Glad you could make it, though. It's nice to see you out of the labs." She turned, and then grinned at Sulu before hugging him too. "And _you,_ I'm really happy to see. Sorry if I missed out on your grandmother's birthday; I was so caught up in exams."

Sulu laughed, and shook his head before kissing her gently on the cheek. "It's fine, it's fine. Grandma knows why you couldn't come."

"So how do you know_ him_?" McCoy asked then.

Rebecca shrugged. "His parents are my godparents. We're related that way on my paternal grandmother's side."

McCoy raised an eyebrow, though he smiled. It was like that, too, in the South, where godparents were considered practically aunts and uncles in their own right – part of the family, and treated like blood, even if they weren't, really.

"Anyway," Kirk cut in then, taking Rebecca by the shoulders and turning her slightly, "Becky, I'd like to introduce Pavel Chekov. He's the guy who pulled me and Sulu out of midair and saved our skins before we crashed onto the Vulcan surface. Chekov, this is my cousin, Rebecca Sanders."

Rebecca smiled and held her hand out for Chekov to shake, and McCoy did not miss the way Chekov's cheeks flamed red – not that it wasn't too hard to see, since Chekov was so pale. "Nice to meet you, Chekov. And thank you for saving Jim and Hikaru's lives."

"Ah… That is to say… I mean… You're very welcome," Chekov replied as took Rebecca's hand, and McCoy nearly laughed at the ensign's discomfort, indicated by just how thick his Russian accent had gotten.

He noticed Kirk glance at him then, and judging from the twinkle in his friend's eye, it was clear to McCoy that he would start mercilessly teasing Chekov about this. And then Kirk turned Rebecca to Spock. "Becky, I'm sure you know Commander Spock. Spock, this is my cousin, Rebecca Sanders."

This time the mischievous twinkle that had been in Kirk's eye appeared in Rebecca's, and it became clear to McCoy that they were, indeed, related. She nodded at Spock in greeting. "Yes, I know of Commander Spock. It is a pleasure to meet you."

"And it is an honor to meet you, Ms. Sanders," Spock replied cordially, bowing his head as well.

"Please, just call me Rebecca. People are going to be calling me Ms. Sanders or Doctor Sanders soon enough, and I'd like to keep hearing my first name as much as I can before that happens."

She stepped back, and gestured them down the steps towards the lower floor. "Come on. Uhura," and here she shot a wicked little smile in Spock's direction, "saved us a table. Oh, and don't worry about the drinks; it's open bar tonight."

"Now _that_ is what I wanted to hear," McCoy muttered so that only Kirk would hear, to which Kirk laughed, and fell in step beside his cousin, slinging an arm around her shoulder as if they were the oldest of friends.

"It would appear that Jim and…Rebecca are very close."

McCoy glanced at Spock, and nodded. "Yeah, well, guess they grew up together. Seems like the only explanation."

Indeed, McCoy's assumption was correct: they did indeed grow up together as children, which was something Rebecca enlightened them all on once they arrived at their table and the drinks started flowing.

"Aunt Winona was always off-planet, since she was a Starfleet officer herself," Rebecca explained as another round of drinks was brought to their table. "Before she married again, my mother Jacqueline took care of Jim too, so we spent most of our childhood together."

"Explains why you're really close," Uhura remarked as she took a sip from her Slusho. "It must have been fun growing up like that."

"Are you _kidding_?" Kirk shook his head. "Our childhood together was horrible. We spent most of it beating the crap out of one another. Aunt Jackie used to call us 'tumbleweeds' because we were always rolling around on the ground while trying to throw punches at each other."

McCoy stared at Kirk, then looked at Rebecca, who had a small, amused smile on her face. "It's true though," she said, taking McCoy's disbelief for what it was. "When people ask why I chose to specialize in trauma surgery, I say it's because of my very traumatic childhood with Jim." She gestured to her forehead. "I've got a scar here from one incident. He whacked me with a baseball bat."

"It _slipped _out of my hands, Becky! I swear!"

"You're just saying that. You did it deliberately to get back at me for loosening your bike chain the week before."

"Aha! So you admit you did it!"

"So you admit you really threw the bat at me and it didn't just slip from your hands?"

"What the- That was an _accident_!"

But by now Rebecca was ignoring him and was looking across the table at Uhura, who was grinning broadly. "See what I had to put up with growing up?" She sighed in exaggerated resignation. "But what can I do? I'm related to the guy."

Kirk rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure, _now_ she complains… What she's forgotten to mention is that she gave as good as she got in those fights. I learned how to fight dirty from her."

Rebecca turned to Kirk, her smile deceptively sweet. "Jimmy, if you don't stop yapping right now, I'm going to remind you how mean my right hook is."

Kirk gave her a smile just as saccharine. "I'd just love to see you try."

"_Now_ I see it," McCoy drawled, making everyone at their table look at him. "I thought it was just the eyes that made them similar, but I'm starting to see they're both stubborn pig-heads."

The reaction from both Kirk and Rebecca was immediate: they both narrowed their eyes at him, and an angry "Shut up!" popped out from both their mouths.

The entire group stared at them for a moment in silence. And then Spock uttered a quiet "Fascinating…" from where he sat beside Uhura, and the entire group burst out into laughter, Kirk and Rebecca doing the same.

"I'll drink to that," Rebecca said, genially lifting her glass in McCoy's direction and tipping it slightly in a half-toast before bringing it to her mouth and taking a sip. "It must come from the Kirk side of the family. My dad's always been the calmer and more focused one between my parents."

"Speaking of your dad," McCoy began as he leaned forward, "talk's going around that he's in line for the Nobel. His research is proving far more helpful to a whole lot more species than he expected."

Rebecca smiled brilliantly then. "I hope he is. We don't talk about it much, so we won't jinx it, but I really, really hope he is in line for the Nobel. He keeps saying that it's no big deal, since he's just doing what he loves most, but I bet he'd like to win it."

"If I may inquire, what sort of research is your father conducting?" Spock asked, suddenly interested now that the conversation had turned away from the personal and swung towards the more scientific.

"My father's an expert in tropical diseases," Rebecca replied. "Pathology, diagnosis, treatment… You name it, he's looked into it. It used to be he was focused just on the diseases that occurred here on Earth, but with so many more people flying out into space and catching tropical diseases from other planets, he's expanded his research into that, too."

"What she _isn't_ saying," McCoy cut in, "is that her father's a damned genius who's controlled more outbreaks of more tropical diseases than anyone has ever managed before. And he handles _very_ hot stuff: he's controlled outbreaks of Ebola-type viruses while ensuring minimal loss of life."

Spock tilted his head slightly. "Indeed? That is very interesting. As I understand it, Ebola caused massive loss of life in Africa when it first appeared, and continues to do so now that it has spread out of the continent. Controlling it must be difficult, considering it is an RNA virus and hence constantly mutating." (2)

McCoy glanced at Rebecca, expecting her to answer, but she remained silent, staring at the bottom of her now-empty glass.

"Okay, enough with all this science stuff," Kirk said, pouring more Saurian brandy into McCoy's glass from a bottle – McCoy wasn't sure where he'd gotten it. "The three of you can talk all about diseases some other time. We're supposed to be relaxing, not thinking about viruses. And besides," here he grinned, stood up, and grabbed Rebecca by the hand, "this is a party! We ought to be dancing!"

McCoy was a psychologist in his own way. He couldn't have been in a position to become a senior medical officer, eligible for promotion to CMO, if he didn't have some expertise on the subject. It was clear now that Kirk was so close to Rebecca he was practically attuned to her moods, and this talk about her father had obviously troubled her. When he remembered that Rebecca also studied tropical diseases, and that her father was indeed one of the greatest experts in the same field, he realized she had an enormous shadow to get out of. She might have loved her father, but it was his reputation that troubled her sometimes.

But apparently, Kirk didn't need too much understanding in psychology to know that talking about Rebecca's father's accomplishments was not that comfortable a topic, and that the best way to distract her was to get her to do something she loved: in this case, dancing.

It worked, too. The Latin theme was still going in the music, and the two cousins were currently dancing a salsa together, with Rebecca's face lit up with a smile brighter than a Christmas tree, her laughter rippling over to their table.

For a brief moment, McCoy wondered what it would be like to be in Kirk's position: knowing all her secrets, being able to comfort her when she was sad by knowing exactly the right thing to do, the right thing to say.

And just as quickly, he knew it'd never happen.

"Chekov, pass me the brandy," he muttered under his breath, and as soon as the ensign had put the bottle in his hand, he started pouring himself more and more drinks, trying to drown out the reality of his current situation.

* * *

NOTES:

1 – This is a reference to the episode "Amok Time" from the original series.

2 – This is my understanding of what could happen to the Ebola family of viruses, the way things stand with it now. Such viral mutation has happened before, and it could easily happen again in the future.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

A year into the _Enterprise's_ explorations and encounters in space, and Kirk was thoroughly convinced of two things. First, they needed more medics experienced in trauma surgery. McCoy was great at it, but the other doctors and nurses were mostly researchers or specialists, people who couldn't handle the pressure cooker that was the Medical Bay in the midst of an emergency involving multiple patients with multiple injuries to multiple body systems. Though McCoy told him that everyone who served in the Medical Bay supposedly had training for such situations, not all had the focus and, more importantly, the tenacity to keep on at their work when there were explosions going on all around them and the ship was rocking like a baby's cradle in an earthquake.

Second, he was convinced something was wrong with Rebecca. He had seen her off on the _Excalibur_, which left three days ahead of the _Enterprise_, but he had been in constant contact with her – or at least, as constant as the distances allowed. Occasionally, when they happened to be on shore leave at the same starbase or space station, they'd get together and catch up, but such occasions were very rare, and they had to rely on interstellar communication – which, given the distances involved, wasn't reliable at all. The _Excalibur_ and the _Enterprise_ each had their own missions, after all.

But what really bothered him was that the last time the _Enterprise_ and the _Excalibur_ had docked together for repairs and R&R for the crew, Rebecca hadn't contacted him at all. The first day of shore leave, he wasn't really bothered by it. Captain Harris had told him the _Excalibur_ had been in quite a few rough spots between their last shore leave and the current one, so he figured that Rebecca was dead tired and was sleeping off the exhaustion.

Then two days passed, then three, until the rest of shore leave went by without Rebecca contacting him at all. He doubted she didn't know about the _Enterprise_ being at the starbase: Harris had informed his crew about the _Enterprise_ being around because he was aware quite a few of his crewmembers had friends and family aboard Kirk's vessel. But she hadn't contacted him, and he hadn't seen her anywhere in the starbase.

That bothered him to no end, and although it was almost a month ago, it was still bothering him. What was going on with her?

"Captain," Spock said then, "shall I call Doctor McCoy?"

"Huh?" Kirk snapped out of his reverie, and glanced up at Spock, who was looking at him impassively from his station. "Why'd you want to call Bones?"

"You appeared to be rather abstracted, and it seemed a logical course of action to inform the Doctor."

"No, no, no need. I was just…thinking." Kirk sat up straighter in his chair, watching stars zip by through the screen in long streaks of light, as they were currently in Warp Two, following a distress signal coming from a Federation ship on the edge of the Klingon Neutral Zone, in a part of the Neutral Zone where no Federation ship ought to be. It was a bit of a touch-and-go situation, since the ship was sending a signal altogether too close to Klingon territory, and indeed, the mere presence of a Federation ship in an area of the Neutral Zone the Klingons considered "their property" might easily be perceived by the Klingons as an attempt to encroach on their space, thus going against the recently-created and enforced Treaty of Organia (1).

"Sir, we're almost there," Sulu announced from his station. "Dropping out of warp in three…two…one."

There was a slight jerk as the _Enterprise_ dropped out of warp, and space stilled on the screen, the stars becoming pinpricks of light against the infinite blackness between them. And right in front of them was the ship that had sent out the call: the _USS Anubis,_ a _Hermes-_class scout vessel (2) assigned to patrol the Federation side of the Neutral Zone and make sure that the Klingons made no attempt to cross over. The vessel's lights were still on, but the single nacelle that was supposed to power the ship was smashed to bits.

Kirk tensed in his seat. Did the Klingons attack the _Anubis_? Was that why they had sent the distress signal?

Out of the corner of his eye, Kirk noticed Spock lean closer toward him, and he inclined his head just so to show that Spock had his attention.

"Does it look like a trap?" Kirk asked, keeping his voice relatively low so that no one else would be able to hear.

"It is a logical possibility," Spock answered. "The _Anubis_ could have been attacked and her system rigged to send out the distress signal. I advise we proceed with caution, but," and here, Kirk noted, the Vulcan smiled just a little, "it could simply be nothing more than an accident. The Treaty still binds us all."

"I thought so." Kirk had been thinking along those lines, too, and the fact that Spock only corroborated what his gut was telling him was rather troubling. But then again, Spock _did_ say that the situation could just have been an accident. He'd gotten too used to thinking of everything in the wrong light lately. He snorted in wry amusement. He was getting as paranoid as McCoy.

Either way, he knew he had no choice but to answer the signal. Even if it was a trap, the crew would still need help – if there were still any crew at all.

"Lieutenant Uhura, hail the _Anubis_, and alert Medical to prepare to accommodate any injured crewmembers," he ordered. He wanted to figure out what the hell the ship was doing in that particular patch of space, and why they were damaged.

Uhura moved to obey his orders, first alerting Medical before hailing the _Anubis._ Several tense seconds later, Uhura said, "I've got them, sir. Bringing them up on the screen right now."

Kirk focused on the large central screen in front of the bridge, and waited for the signal to come through. When it did, the screen flickered to life, and Kirk found himself staring at the very harried, very tired face of a man he knew pretty well.

"Nice to see you alive, Grant," he said, relieved that at least the ship's captain was still alive.

Captain Grant Odell nodded back. "And it's very nice to see you, Jim. You cannot believe how glad I am you guys finally showed up."

Kirk nodded back, and got down to business. "What happened?"

"Before you think the Klingons were involved, they weren't. It was a matter of Mother Nature, combined with being in the wrong place at the wrong time, plus the unbelievable stupidity of some of my crew."

As it turned out, a wandering piece of space rock – probably the shattered remains of a comet or a large asteroid – had gone undetected due to crew negligence, and smashed into the _Anubis's _warp nacelle. They had tried impulse power after that, but they were low on fuel to begin with, so Captain Odell ordered that they were to use impulse power only if needed to keep them from floating further into Klingon space while they waited for rescue.

Kirk nodded. "Did you have any contact with the Klingons?"

"No. They were terribly quiet, actually." A smile broke onto Odell's face. "Perhaps they were expecting a trap of some sort."

"So was I, but I'm glad this isn't a trap." Smiling back at Odell, Kirk said, "Captain Odell, the _Enterprise _stands ready to bring your crew aboard for assistance and treatment of the injured, and we would be glad to put the _Anubis_ in our tractor beam and tow her to the nearest space station."

"And we would be extremely grateful for the assistance. We shall make arrangements on our side immediately. Again, thanks Jim."

"You're welcome, Grant. _Enterprise_ out." He activated the intercom on the command chair. "Kirk to Engineering. Mr. Scott, please be informed that the crew of the _Anubis_ shall be coming aboard in a moment. All injured crewmembers are to be taken to the Medical Bay immediately. Doctor McCoy will likely have teams on standby, ready to take them on."

"Aye, aye, Captain," came Scotty's reply, followed by the chirp of disconnection. After that he turned to Sulu and Chekov, and gave them the order to put the scout ship in their tractor beam, and after that, to head for the nearest space station at Warp Six (3).

What followed was somewhat routine, if rather hectic: the crew of the _Anubis_ were brought onboard, and those who were injured were brought to Medical for treatment – fortunately, only a few had severe injuries, and McCoy, in the midst of much grumbling, said they would live to see another day. And then there was much shifting around to be done, as the other, uninjured crewmembers were assigned rooms to stay in and things to do. And while all of _that_ was going on, Kirk checked in with Scotty from time to time to ensure that everything was going well with the tractor beam and the ship they were towing.

It was several hours later that Kirk finally headed to his quarters, exhausted from the strain of having to oversee everything, and dropped onto his bed. Most of the time, he relished being in command, absolutely loved the rush he got from being able to see the _Enterprise_ and her crew through various conflicts and crises time and time again. But there were times when it just wore him down, and he wanted nothing more than to leave the Conn in Spock's hands for a couple of hours so he could rest.

And he had a good several hours' rest at that, until the beeping of his intercom pulled him out of a nap. He rolled over on his bed, and pressed the button on the intercom. "Kirk here."

It was Spock. "Captain, we have just dropped out of warp and are approaching Deep Space Station K-3 (4). I have contacted the Station to tell them that we have got the _Anubis_ and will be requesting tugs to bring her in. I have also requested that accommodations be made for her crew, including those who have been injured. Do you have any other orders?"

"Please see to all the necessary arrangements for our docking at the station. That is all, Mr. Spock."

"I shall see to it Captain."

No sooner had the intercom disconnected than his communicator beeped, and Kirk sighed huffily. Picking it up, he lay back down on his bed, an arm over his eyes as he flipped it open and pressed the device to his ear. "Kirk here."

"Jim?"

That voice made him sit straight up. "Becky? Becky, is that you?"

The sob in his cousin's voice made his heart break and his temper bubble. "Jim, you have to get me out of here."

"Where are you?" Please God, Kirk prayed, please let her be within reach. "C'mon doll, tell me where you are."

"I'm on the _Excalibur._ But Jim, you have to get me out of here. He won't let me go."

"He? Who's he? Becky, tell me, who're you talking about? Doll, tell me what's happened to you."

There was a shuffling sound, as if Rebecca was moving around, or was shifting her communicator. A moment later, she spoke again, but her voice was low and scared. "I can't tell you right now. I have to go. If he finds me now, he'll-"

Kirk did _not_ want to hear that. "I'm coming for you Becky. Don't worry, I'm gonna come get you, I promise. Just hang on."

He wasn't sure if she had heard him, because the communicator link beeped out. Kirk stared at the intercom for a moment, and then got onto his feet, heading straight for the bridge, already seeing red as his temper continued to boil.

Whoever this "he" was, Kirk was going to personally wring his neck.

* * *

NOTES:

1 - The Klingon Neutral Zone was never directly mentioned in the series, but given how the recent movie makes mention of it in the _Kobayashi Maru_ Test, then it's possible it has existed for a while now in the alternate reality. The Treaty of Organia is a reference to the episode "Errand of Mercy" from the first series, but "recently" in that sentence means that it was indeed put together only recently – meaning in the first year of the _Enterprise's_ ongoing mission, when a group of Klingons and Kirk's team were forced into negotiations and eventually the treaty by the Organians.

2 - This is an actual ship class and ship name listed in the _Star Trek: Starfleet Technical Manual._ Her assignment to patrol the Klingon Neutral Zone is, of course, fictional on my part.

3 - While it seems that using a tractor beam can only be done at sub-warp speeds, it is possible to do so at warp speeds when the engines of the ship being towed are shut off. It's not mentioned in-story because I'm sure most everyone on the crew would have known that, or at least the engineers would, and it is certain Captain Odell would have ordered the shutdown of the _Anubis's_ engines to facilitate the towing process. Of course, this first happened in the prime universe during Picard's time, but I think it could still apply in Kirk's time as well.

4 - This is non-existent in canon, but based upon a canonical space station called Deep Space Station K-7. I assume that the "K" means "Klingon" (near whose border the station is located), and the number indicates the position of the station in a series of stations along the Klingon Neutral Zone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Spock was well aware that James Kirk had a temper. It had been quite obvious to him, from previous confrontations and collaborations with his current Captain, both during their pursuit of Nero and the _Narada_, and in the past year serving together, that although Kirk was more than capable of reining in his emotions as best as a Human could when it was necessary, he was also quite capable of showing those emotions to explosive effect.

But when Kirk strode onto the bridge at that moment, Spock – and the rest of the people on the bridge at that time – knew that this was very, very different.

Spock kept a close eye on his captain, even as he vacated the command chair for Kirk, who sat down in it, still glowering. He was aware that Uhura was looking at him, but he did not need to look at her, knowing she would be able to divine what was going on for herself. Though they had broken off their relationship six months into their first year aboard the _Enterprise,_ they were still very good at reading each other, and oftentimes they needed nothing more than a brief glance or a tilt of the head to communicate with one another.

"Lieutenant Uhura, contact the _Excalibur_," Kirk ordered, his voice low and deadly. "She should be nearby. As soon as you hail her, put me through to Captain Harris immediately."

Spock allowed his forehead to knit a little in surprise. That was unusual. None of them had suspected the other starship would be within hailing distance – but then again, none of them were really paying much attention to the possibility of another starship's presence.

Both curious and concerned, Spock moved closer to Kirk. "I am certain you have your reasons for wanting to hail the _Excalibur, _Captain, but how did you know she was nearby, and why do you wish to contact her?"

Kirk's eyes blazed, and Spock knew, right then and there, that whatever had irked Kirk's ire, it was of a very personal nature, one that cut close enough to his more volatile emotions to cause them all to bubble up to the surface in the most violent way.

"Just. Hail. Her," Kirk ground out

Spock gazed at him for a while, trying to figure out what was the matter with him, but finding no real answer, he glanced up at Uhura, who was looking at him, waiting for a signal. Although Spock could not as yet find any logical explanation for Kirk's irrational behavior, he nodded slightly to Uhura, who turned to her console and started putting the transmission through. Perhaps, Spock thought, if they followed through with these irrational orders, they might arrive at a rational explanation for the aforementioned irrational orders. That had been the way this ship worked for the last year, so these new orders were not really all that new.

Surprisingly, the _Excalibur_ was very close indeed, and it didn't take Uhura long to make contact and to make the necessary adjustments so that the view screen brought up the other starship's bridge.

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise," Captain Nathan Harris said, the wrinkles around his eyes becoming more pronounced as he smiled. "Wasn't expecting to see you anywhere near a space station so soon, Kirk."

Kirk's smile was tight, and so was his voice. "Sorry this couldn't be a more pleasant call, but I'm afraid this is strictly business."

The smile on Harris's face was immediately replaced by a frown. "I see. And what sort of business would that be?"

Kirk sat up straighter in an attempt to give the illusion that he was calm, but in truth, Spock thought it only seemed to give a deadlier edge to his rage. "I would like to speak to Doctor Rebecca Sanders."

Now Spock raised an eyebrow. Rebecca Sanders? Spock was aware that she had been stationed on the _Excalibur,_ but he could not imagine why Kirk would want to speak to his cousin now, of all times, when they were not on shore leave.

Unless, of course, something had happened to Rebecca, something that Kirk did not like in the least. It was a logical possibility, since Kirk was very close to his cousin, and it had been quite evident to Spock that his captain had extremely protective instincts when it came to his Rebecca.

In truth, though Spock would not say it aloud nor give any outward indication of it, he approved of such protective tendencies: it was the same in Vulcan society, though Vulcans were certainly not as expressive as Humans were when it came to such things.

It was quite obvious that Captain Harris had not been expecting that response, because his voice reflected his puzzlement when he asked, "Doctor Sanders? What sort of business do you have with her?"

"Doctor Sanders is my cousin, and very important to me." Kirk's jaw clenched as he paused, which Spock read as an attempt to tamp down his anger, before he spoke again: "A few minutes ago she contacted me over a personal line. She asked me to come and get her, because a certain man would not let her leave. She sounded afraid for her personal safety."

_Now_ that caught everyone's undivided attention. Spock noted how Uhura whirled around, eyes widening in shock upon hearing that statement. He then recalled that Rebecca and Uhura were very close friends, and such news would be of great importance to her. He also saw how Sulu stiffened at the controls, and he recalled it being mentioned at the Dance Troupe's after-party that Rebecca's godparents were actually Sulu's parents, hence making them relatives of a sort, though certainly not by blood.

As for himself, Kirk's statement troubled him. While the facts had been sparse, Spock was able to infer what those limited facts implied – and if he were to be honest, he did not like the direction his thoughts had taken, logical though it might have been. If his theory was indeed the correct one, he could understand why Kirk was so angry – indeed, he himself felt outrage at the idea, though more as a matter of moral principle, since he had no attachment to Doctor Sanders that would justify a more personal reaction.

In the meantime, Captain Harris's frown deepened. "Why would she be afraid for her personal safety?"

"I wish I knew. Either way, I'm coming to get her."

"Captain Kirk, you can't just come in here and take one of my crewmembers, certainly not one as important as Doctor Sanders."

That, Spock assumed, was the last straw, to apply a figure of speech the Humans liked to use. Kirk got up from the command chair, and strode up to the view screen, belligerence clear in his stance and voice. "Captain Harris, I wouldn't normally do this sort of thing, I assure you, but when my cousin who is practically my sister calls me with a sob in her voice _begging_ me to get her out of wherever the hell she is, I'm going to make damn sure I get her out."

Captain Harris's eyes narrowed, and then he nodded. "Very well. I shall have Doctor Sanders called, and we shall get to the bottom of this. You are free to come aboard with anyone you feel must accompany you. _Excalibur _out."

Kirk did not even wait for the transmission to completely end; as soon as Captain Harris had given him permission, he turned back to the command chair, and brought up the intercom. "Kirk to Medical. Bones, get your ass to the Transporter Room now." He looked up at Spock. "You're coming, too."

Spock was surprised enough by that statement to show it by raising his eyebrow slightly. This was, as far as he was concerned, a family affair. It was not the Vulcan way to interfere in the goings-on in another person's family. Such things were too personal. Moreover, he could not even claim the privilege of friendship, since they could only claim to be acquaintances, at best.

"Are you certain my presence will be necessary?" he asked, trying to ascertain if Kirk truly did want him around.

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't, would I?" Kirk asked, voice deadpan.

Spock knew right then that Kirk would brook no argument, and chose to acquiesce. "Of course Captain."

"Good. Sulu, you have the Conn."

"Yes sir."

As he and Kirk entered the turbolift, he watched as Uhura took out her ear receiver, and strode up to them before the turbolift doors closed.

"I'm going with you," she stated.

Spock readied a protest, thinking that it was unnecessary for Uhura to come along with them. Apparently, Kirk was preparing to do the same thing, but Uhura prevented them both from saying anything in her usual, blunt way.

"I don't care what either of you think. Becky's my best friend and I want to be there to find out what happened to her." She lifted her chin in that manner Spock had found attractive once, but which he now found to be merely a reminder of why he had once loved this woman as more than a friend, and why he respected her today as a confidante. "Try and stop me."

He glanced at Kirk, and caught the brief glint of amusement in the Captain's eyes, before they both looked at the Communications Officer again, and Kirk said, "Fine, you come with us. Might help for Becky to see a familiar female face when we come and get her."

Uhura smiled a little at that. "Thank you Captain."

They had reached the Transporter Room at this point, and as soon as they stepped out McCoy strode over to Kirk, looking extremely irritated.

"Just what the hell are you doing and where the hell are we going Jim?" the CMO demanded, nevertheless taking one of the spots on the pad.

Kirk gave him a look. "We're gonna go aboard the _Excalibur_ and get Becky. She just contacted me, and I don't know what the hell's going on with her, but she was scared and asked me to get her. So we are."

Apparently, that was a satisfactory explanation to get McCoy to cease making demands of Kirk, because Spock noted that the man fell silent, and instead, his face took on a hard cast, just like their Captain's.

"Everything is set and ready to go, Captain," Scott stated, his accent making his speech a little hard to follow, but Spock had gotten quite used to it. He noted the small smile Uhura exchanged with Scott, and that piqued Spock's interest.

But he had no time to think on it. Kirk gave the order to energize, and little swirling lights surrounded him, followed by the oddest sensation of one's entire being dissolving, followed by a split-second of nothingness, and then the feeling of one solidifying some other place – in this instance, Spock saw, on the _Excalibur's_ transporter pad.

"Welcome to the _Excalibur,_" said a small, Asian woman whom Spock recognized as Commander Min Zheng, Captain Harris's First Officer. Her face was impassive as she nodded in greeting at each of them, before turning on her heel and heading out into the hallway. "Follow me, please."

The _Excalibur_ and the _Enterprise_ were sister ships, which meant that their interior design was practically the same. Judging from the directions they were going, Spock knew they were heading to the bridge, where he was certain Captain Harris would be waiting for them so they could address Kirk's highly unorthodox request. However, as they walked there, Spock noted that there were search parties who seemed to be rushing down various hallways, leaving and entering turbolifts in an organized pattern that he recognized as a ship-wide search – though for what, he could not begin to imagine.

As soon as they entered the Bridge, the flurry of activity that had been going on prior to their arrival stilled. Captain Harris turned to them, and it did not take Spock long to understand what was meant by the grim set of the Captain's mouth: it meant bad news, bad news that had everything to do with the search parties and their purpose for being where they were in the first place.

"It appears you had every reason to be worried, Jim," Harris said quietly. "We haven't been able to locate your cousin."

"I thought so," Kirk muttered with a nod. "Do you have any idea who might know where she's been hidden?"

Harris nodded. "I'm having him brought up here right now."

No sooner had he spoken than the turbolift door slid open, and a man with dark hair and intense green eyes walked in. Again, this was someone whom Spock recognized: Doctor Ethan Gamble, currently the Chief Medical Officer of the _Excalibur,_ and a doctor of the same caliber and expertise as McCoy.

"You wished to speak with me, Captain?" Gamble asked as he stood at attention, focusing solely on Harris, as if he did not see anyone else.

"Actually, _I _wanted to speak with you," Kirk answered, walking over until he was practically nose-to-nose with the man. "Do you know where Becky is? You're her boyfriend and her superior; you ought to know."

Yet another surprise, but in Spock's mind, it fit. And everything was beginning to make sense. His theory began to solidify into something approaching fact, and he did not like that at all.

Despite Kirk's invasion of his personal space, Gamble remained impassive. "As of six months ago she is my fiancée, not my girlfriend. And who are you?"

"James Kirk, Captain of the _Enterprise._ Becky's cousin."

"I see." A pause. "Well?"

Kirk's eyes narrowed. "I have the feeling you know where my cousin is. In fact, I have the feeling you were the one who hid her."

"Jim," Harris warned, "now's not the time for hasty accusations."

"The hell with hasty accusations," McCoy snarled, striding forward to stand next to Kirk. "Tell us where you hid Becky _right now, _you bastard, or so help me God, I'll-"

"You'll what?" Gamble drawled, and then his mouth twisted into an ugly smirk. "Punch me? I know you, Leonard. You loved her too, but she chose me over you. All of you adored her, but she still chose me in the end. You're just jealous that she's mine and not yours."

This time it was Uhura who made to move towards the man, but Spock reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. When she whirled around to face him, he gazed straight into her eyes, and said, quietly, "Calm down, Uhura. Let Jim and Bones handle this."

She continued to stare at him, and for a moment Spock wondered if she would listen to him. She could be very persistent if she wanted her way, and there was little he could do to stop her. When she was in such a mood, all the logic in the universe could not stop her.

But fortunately, she relaxed, and backed down, choosing to stand beside him and watch the unfolding drama with clenched fists.

"I know where she is," Gamble said then, as if commenting on a job well done, "but I'm not giving her to you. She's mine, you see. She's fine, forever and ever."

Ah, now we come to the heart of the matter, Spock thought. It was becoming clear that Doctor Gamble, despite being highly successful in his field, and seemingly normal on the surface, was in fact deeply troubled in the mind. Obsession was distasteful, to say the least, a byproduct of an inability to control one's emotions properly, even amongst Humans. But now Spock had the answer to his theory – and he feared that it was as unpleasant as he initially postulated it to be.

Kirk laughed quietly then. "Yours, huh?" he muttered, as if highly amused by what Gamble had just said. But Spock knew what was coming next, hence he was not surprised when Kirk whirled around, and punched Gamble hard on the jaw. There were cries of surprise from all around the bridge, and three of the _Excalibur's_ security personnel stepped forward to separate the two men, but they stopped when McCoy gave them a harsh glare.

In the meantime, Kirk was oblivious to all of it. His punch had left Gamble dazed – not surprising, as Spock correctly deduced that the doctor had not gotten into too many fights in the past and hence was not inured to the pain of being punched on the jaw – thus allowing Kirk to haul Gamble partially upwards by his collar.

"Tell me where she is," Kirk growled. "Tell me, or I'll smash your face to a pulp until you do."

Gamble laughed as best as he could despite his injury. "Why should I? You're just going to take my precious Becky away from me, and I won't let you."

"She _wanted_ to get away from you! She _called_ me to take her away!"

"She doesn't know what's good for her," Gamble replied. "She thinks she needs other people, but she doesn't. She doesn't need you. She needs me. She's a little stupid like that, but she can't help it. She's a woman. Sometimes they don't know what's best for them. That's why she needs me."

Beside him, Spock heard Uhura gasp, and even he, himself, could not prevent his eyes from widening in surprise at that statement. He had not anticipated this man's depravity to run so deeply. He wondered now how such a troubled mind could have gone unnoticed in the Academy. Normally there were regular psychological tests administered to ensure that no such people came into important command positions, so how had Gamble been missed?

Kirk fumed quietly for a moment, and then let go, allowing Gamble to fall into a crumpled heap on the floor. "Bones, put something in this man to knock him out before I do it myself. Spock, do a Mind Meld with him to find out where the hell he stashed Becky. If you can make it hurt, so much the better."

McCoy responded to his Captain's orders with particular relish, pulling out his hypospray, loading a vial of sedative and jabbing it at Gamble's neck, taking no effort to be gentle about his application, or taking the time to make sure that Gamble's head was laid down gently on the floor: he simply let the unconscious man drop the rest of the way to the floor.

Spock, on the other hand, merely did as he was ordered. He understood the need for expediency, and found Kirk's order logical: a certain amount of haste was necessary at this moment, and since it was highly doubtful Gamble would yield the information regarding Rebecca's location anytime soon, it was far simpler to simply sedate him, and while he was under, have Spock discover where he had hidden her through a Mind Meld.

Spock knelt down beside Gamble's unconscious form, and was glad to note that he was deeply sedated. That would make the Mind Meld easier to perform. Carefully, he placed his fingers over Gamble's face, closed his eyes, and dove in.

How did one describe madness? Psychologists and psychiatrists had entire lexicons of terms to detail the various levels and nuances of lunacy, but none of them could truly comprehend what it was like to be within the mind of a person lost in the throes of insanity.

To Spock, it was as if he had jumped into a deep, tarry pit, oily and sticky at the same time, memories and ideas clinging and sliding away in the most illogical manner. There was little light in the mind of this madman: only the dull light of greed to point the way through the dark morass.

When he finally broke the Mind Meld, he inhaled deeply, as if the stench of this man's mind was still in his lungs, swallowed hard as if the foul taste of his madness lingered still on the back of his tongue. Nevertheless, he had the information they needed, and as he stood, he mastered his emotions once more, for what he had learned was terrible.

He looked straight at Kirk, who was looking right back at him expectantly. "She is in one of the Medical Bay's storage areas. She has been sedated to prevent any escape attempts, but it is uncertain how much sedative she has been given. She has apparently been on such a program of sedation since this ship started approaching the space station."

"I'll go get her," McCoy said, nodding first at Kirk, then at Captain Harris, before shooting one final glare at Gamble's still-unconscious form and stepping into the turbolift, Uhura hot on his heels.

Spock turned to Captain Harris when the older man sighed. "I'm terribly sorry for all of this, Jim. If I'd known…"

Kirk shook his head. "It's okay. At least we got him."

"He will have to stand trial for what he has done," Spock stated. "He should be charged with medical malpractice for dosing Doctor Sanders with sedatives when they were unnecessary."

Captain Harris nodded solemnly. "It could be more than that. If your Doctor McCoy finds evidence of physical abuse, it may be possible to press more serious charges."

"Believe me, I'm gunning for those," Kirk muttered angrily.

The intercom on the command chair beeped, and Captain Harris moved to answer it. "Captain Harris."

"Sir, this is Doctor McCoy. We've found Doctor Sanders."

Kirk pushed past Captain Harris, and took over the intercom. "How is she?"

"Bastard overdosed her. Breathing's shallow, she's not responding to external stimuli. I'll try something to reverse it when I figure out what he put in her, but I can't say for sure how soon I can bring her round." There was a pause, and Spock heard Uhura's voice in the background, but was unable to decipher her words. And then McCoy added, "I want her back on the _Enterprise._ She's got bruises on her face that I want treated, and meaning no offense to Captain Harris, but I just might break something if I did it here. Anyway, Uhura and I are heading back right now with her."

"Understood," Captain Harris said, his voice heavy with what Spock thought sounded like regret, and perhaps guilt. The older captain looked at Kirk as the intercom beeped out, and added, "We'll keep Gamble in the brig. As soon as we dock at the space station, I'll send word out to Starfleet Command. Will Doctor McCoy have a report ready by then?"

Kirk nodded. "I'll tell him to make sure he keeps a record of everything he finds out."

"Good. Hopefully it will allow your cousin to stay off the witness stand entirely."

"I hope so."

There was a pause, and Captain Harris approached Kirk. "I am terribly sorry Jim. I truly am."

Kirk smiled slightly, and shook his head. "You did what you could, and for that I'm grateful." He stepped back, standing at attention. "I will be returning to the _Enterprise_ now. I'm sorry this couldn't have been a more pleasant visit."

"I'm just as sorry as you are, Jim. See you at the space station."

"Yes, sir."

Spock noticed the glance that Kirk shot his way, and he fell in step behind his captain as the two of them were escorted back to the Transporter Room by Commander Zheng. For a while, none of them spoke, until Zheng turned to them, and murmured, "Please tell Doctor Sanders to get well soon. She will be missed on the _Excalibur_."

Finally, the rage that had practically saturated the air around Kirk evaporated, and he smiled genuinely at Zheng. "I'll tell her that, Commander…"

"Min Zheng. She'll know my name when you tell her."

"I'll get the message to her, Commander Zheng."

"Thank you, Captain Kirk."

They had arrived at the Transporter Room at last, and it was with great relief that Spock stood on the transporter pad, and waited for the transporter chief to finally beam them back to the _Enterprise._ As soon as they arrived, he turned to Kirk, and said, "Jim, I shall take the Conn for the moment. You should go and see to Rebecca."

Kirk looked back at him, blinking in surprise at the offer, before smiling gratefully. "Thanks, Spock."

"You are most welcome."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Uhura believed it was the waiting that killed you when you were at a hospital or in the Medical Bay. It was the waiting that killed your spirit and made your heart hurt, because you were helpless and could do nothing but sit it out and hope for the best.

Rebecca was lying in a bed in front of her, surrounded by machines that monitored her heart rate and breathing, while her left cheek was bandaged to help heal the fractured cheekbone underneath. Though McCoy had managed to figure out what Gamble had been dosing her with and given her the corresponding antidote, he admitted that only time would tell whether she would wake up all right, or if the sedative had done any damage to her – memory loss being a very real possibility in cases like these.

That was why the waiting killed her. When Uhura thought of the possibility that Rebecca would wake up and not recognize her… She shook her head. Negativity never helped anyone in this situation.

A soft moan caught her attention then, and she all but jumped towards the bed, gently taking hold of Rebecca's hand, squeezing and rubbing it gently. "Becky," she murmured, "Becky it's me. It's Nyota."

"Ugh… Huh?" Rebecca's eyes blinked open slowly, and as she squinted at Uhura it was clear that she was trying to focus. "Nyo…ta?"

"You remember me?"

"Yes…"

Uhura swallowed against the lump in her throat, and nodded in approval. "Okay, okay, that's good." She turned to the intercom beside the bed. "Doctor McCoy, she's awake."

No sooner had she said the words than footsteps came towards her, and both McCoy and Kirk arrived. She stepped aside to let the Doctor do his job, but did not let go of Rebecca's hand. She glanced at Kirk, who nodded, and went round to the other side so he could hold onto Rebecca's other hand.

"Hey doll," he murmured, brushing hair away from her forehead, gently tracing the thin scar close to her hairline. "It's Jimmy."

"Jimmy." A smile curled on Rebecca's lips. "Jimmy and Nyota…"

"She remembers you two?" McCoy asked as he moved towards Rebecca's head, a penlight in his hand. He shone it into her eyes, and smiled at her slightly. "Hey there Becky. Remember me?"

"Leonard." She closed her eyes then, and breathed what sounded like a sigh of relief. "Safe…"

"Yeah, you're safe now," Kirk assured her. "No one's going to hurt you now, Becky. I promise."

"Okay." Rebecca exhaled again, this time a longer sigh. "Sleepy…"

Uhura shot a glance up at McCoy, wondering if that was such a good idea. If they let her sleep, would she wake up again?

As if knowing the question on her mind, McCoy glanced at one of the panels, checked the readings, and nodded. "It's okay. Let her sleep."

Uhura nodded, and smiled at Rebecca. "Get some sleep, okay? I'll see you when you're better."

Rebecca smiled back at her, and her eyes slid shut. Kirk did not leave, though; instead he pulled the nearest stool over with a foot, sat down on it, and continued to hold Rebecca's hand, while with his other hand he gently stroked her hair. He was humming something softly, a tune Uhura didn't recognize, but it had a soothing quality to it, and she figured it was some sort of lullaby.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt a hand on her shoulder, and when she turned, she saw Spock standing just behind her. "Spock!"

He nodded at her, before lifting his gaze to where Kirk had settled down to watch over his cousin. "She has awakened then?"

"Yeah, but it was only for a while. Bones let her go back to sleep." She smiled up at Spock. "She remembered me, Spock. And she remembered Jim and Bones too. I think she's really going to be okay."

"That is good news." He looked back at her, and it was only because Uhura had known him for so long, and for a while, on very intimate terms, that she noted the slight softening of his features.

"You are tired," he said, and while some other person might have taken it as a simple statement of fact, Vulcan style, Uhura was able to hear the note of concern underlying his words. "You must return to your quarters and rest."

She nodded in agreement, but did not move. She continued watching Kirk and Rebecca, even when McCoy had dimmed the lights to make the area more comfortable for sleep. She wanted nothing more than to stay in the Medical Bay and watch over her best friend: after all, Rebecca had been for her when she had been troubled, and it was only right for Uhura to be there for her, too.

Spock turned her around so that she was facing him, and gently ran his hands up and down her upper arms. "You can talk to her tomorrow," he said soothingly. "She will likely need your support in coming to terms with what has happened to her. For now, let her rest. I am sure Jim and Bones will take good care of her."

"Okay." She let Spock lead her out of the door of the Medical Bay, and when the door shut behind them she turned to Spock, and smiled softly. "Thank you, Spock."

Spock nodded, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth. "Shall I escort you to your quarters, Nyota?"

Six months ago Uhura would have understood the request to mean that Spock wished to spend some quiet, intimate time with her, but now, she knew that though he did want to spend some time with her, it was simply to comfort her, one friend to another. "Please do. I'd really like that."

--+--

If there was anything Rebecca Sanders hated being, it was being in the position of the patient. She had treated more than her fair share as a doctor, but nevertheless, she absolutely did not enjoy being the one poked and prodded at.

She watched Leonard McCoy as he bustled amongst the tables and shelves, likely doing a quick inventory check, as was normal at the start of every day. "Is it okay if I take this bandage off? It's uncomfortable to talk with it still on my face."

McCoy shook his head. "Sorry Becky. That bandage is staying right where it is." He turned and walked up to her, lifting one finger when he was close enough. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"I don't have diplopia (1) anymore, Leonard," Rebecca huffed, following the finger around with her eyes as McCoy moved it back and forth and up and down in front of her face. "And I think my eyes are tracking just fine."

McCoy glared. "Just answer the question."

"One."

He nodded, and started pressing gently at her arms and legs. "Any unusual sensations? Pins and needles?"

"No, which means I'm not experiencing dysesthesia, or paresthesia (2) either." She gave him a look. "I'm _fine_, and mostly thanks to you."

"Yeah, well, you came damn close to dying, that's for sure." He nodded at the bandage on her cheek. "That needs to stay there. You've got hairline fractures on your cheekbone, and the pressure will help heal the fractures faster as well as minimize the pain."

Hairline fractures…of course. Naturally she would have them. She bowed her head, lightly touching the bandage on her cheek. She knew why she had them, knew all too well why. "Right. Hairline fractures. Of course."

The bed she was sitting on shifted slightly, and when she looked up she saw McCoy sit down next to her, concern radiating from his dark hazel eyes. Eventually, he reached up, his fingers covering hers as he, too, gently touched the bandage on her face.

"It's okay," he murmured, and Rebecca noted that a hint of his Southern accent, normally absent in his speech, made an appearance now, giving his words a comforting, almost mellifluous tone. "He ain't gonna get you anymore."

She nodded, once, and swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears under control. She hated it when she let her feelings run amok. She was no Vulcan, true, and she doubted she could live like one, but she did like to think she had a handle on most of her feelings and was capable of reeling them in when she felt it was necessary. And right now, she felt too fragile around the edges, too broken, that she did not want any loss of control.

She needed to hold herself together, needed to convince herself that, despite what had happened over the last several months, she was still herself, still capable of doing what she enjoyed, of putting her life back together again.

But she was afraid she wouldn't be able to do it.

Something warm touched the underside of her eye, and when she blinked to refocus, she realized that McCoy's hand was now cupping her face, his thumb brushing away the tear that had managed to fall from her eyes. Surprised by the contact, she jerked away, but immediately regretted it when she saw how his eyes had darkened, as if shutters had been drawn behind them.

"Leonard-"

The turbolift door swooshed open, and Kirk sauntered in, a huge grin on his face and hiding something behind his back. "And how's Sleeping Beauty doing?"

"Really good." Rebecca smiled back, and tried to ignore the way McCoy walked away as if he'd been stung. "Prince Charming's been taking great care of me."

McCoy snorted in derision. "You're delusional if you think I'm Prince Charming," he muttered.

"You'd make a better Prince Charming than Jim over here," she said, smiling when he looked over his shoulder at her. "At least we know you're capable of commitment."

The small smile that curled his mouth was a relief. That meant he wasn't angry at her for jerking away. With that settled, she leaned over, trying to see around Kirk's back. "What've you got there?"

Kirk shrugged as he hopped onto the bed beside her. "Just a little something I was hoping to surprise you with." As he spoke, he whipped his hand around to the front, and put something very, very cold on Rebecca's lap.

"Frozen strawberry yogurt!" Rebecca exclaimed, eyes wide at what Kirk had given her. What made it special was that it was not replicated strawberry yogurt right out of the _Enterprise's_ food replicators, but a particular brand she favored while she was on Earth. She looked up at Kirk. "How'd you get this?"

"Oh, you know, I just used what you call my 'dubious charms' on a lady at one of the shops here and she let me buy a dozen of them." Kirk handed her a plastic spoon. "Go ahead, eat up."

"Shops?" Rebecca asked, puzzled. "Are we at a starbase?"

"Yeah. We've docked at Space Station K-3 for now, along with the _Excalibur._"

Rebecca lowered her hand just as she was about to put a spoonful of yogurt in her mouth. "So you mean… He's still nearby?"

"Locked safely in the _Excalibur's_ brig," Kirk assured her. "I'd prefer to have him in the _Enterprise's_ brig, where I can keep a close eye on him, but I didn't think you'd like him being that close."

"No, I… Actually, you're right." Rebecca put aside the yogurt on the bedside table, afraid she would drop it because her hands were shaking so hard. The mere idea of him being nearby frightened her, no matter how hard she tried to tell herself that she was safe now, that he couldn't hurt her.

Kirk pulled her into his arms, holding her tight. "Oh Becky…"

"I'm sorry," she said, her words coming out choked as the tears started up again. "I can't stop shaking when I think about him, Jim. I keep thinking he'll be right around the corner, and then-"

"That is _never_ going to happen," Kirk said firmly. He pulled away, cupped her face in both his hands, and looked her straight in the eye. "You have my word, Becky, both as Captain and as your cousin. I promise you, Ethan Gamble will _never_ lay a hand on you again. I'd kill him before he did that. You understand?"

Rebecca swallowed, and nodded. She doubted she really could have said anything right then, whether to agree or disagree with him.

"Okay. Okay, that's good." Kirk kissed her gently on the forehead, and took both her hands in his, holding them until she stopped shaking. Finally, he said, "Min Zheng says hi, and that they miss you on the _Excalibur._"

"Zheng? Really?" Rebecca laughed softly, though she sniffled and wiped her tears away carefully. It really was a bit of a surprise. She had tried to befriend Min Zheng, like she tried to befriend as many people as she could on the _Excalibur,_ but the woman hadn't seemed to like her much – or rather, hadn't really liked the idea of her being with Ethan. She thought then that it was because Zheng did not like the idea, since it was a breach in regulation, but since Captain Harris himself saw nothing wrong with it, she had no choice but to let it go.

Rebecca felt now that she owed Zheng a word of gratitude, and the chance to tell her that she might really have been right all along.

"Yeah," Kirk confirmed. He was silent for a beat, and then he stood up. "I hate to leave you right now, but I've got a couple of things to see to."

Of course, Rebecca remembered: her cousin was also a starship captain, and had other responsibilities, most of which were more important than looking after her. "Sure, don't let me keep you."

"Thanks. You just eat your yogurt, okay? Uhura will be around in a bit to keep you company."

At the prospect of seeing Uhura, Rebecca felt a whole lot better. "Great! I'd be glad for some girl talk."

McCoy groaned then. "The minute Uhura gets here, I'm taking off," he muttered. "I can't stand girly talk."

"I don't think it's that bad," Kirk remarked. "I mean, it's the only time you really find out what girls think about a lot of things."

Rebecca gave her cousin a hard stare. "Somehow, I have a feeling the idea's twisted in your head into one big dirty joke."

"You know me too well, doll."

"Don't call me that."

Kirk laughed, and it was a loud, cheerful, pleasant sound. "Glad to have you home, Becky."

All of a sudden, it was as if they were children again, taking a break from chasing each other across the wide fields in Riverside. They were watching the sun set on the enormous Federation shipyards, talking about maybe, someday, going out into space and doing great, wonderful things. Little could either of them have imagined that one of the ships being built in those very same shipyards would come under Kirk's command, and that Rebecca would seek refuge on it herself.

Odd, she thought, how the universe seemed to conspire to bring you back to the things that mean the most to you. And yet, she was glad, so very glad, for it.

"Yeah," she murmured, smiling softly. "It's good to be home."

* * *

NOTES:

1 - This is the proper medical term for what most people commonly call "seeing double." It's one of the symptoms associated with sedative overdose.

2 - Again, medical terms referring to symptoms associated with sedative overdose. The former refers to an assortment of abnormal sensations under the skin, including burning or wetness, while the latter refers to the feeling commonly recognized as "pins and needles."

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I would like to thank everyone who has stuck around so far with this story. I know I usually respond to reviews and thank people for reading via that avenue, but I would like to thank the people who read this story but don't leave a review, for some reason or another. Thank you very much, and I hope you stick around to see what happens!


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

"Get Spock to do it."

"Bones, Spock can't do it. He's not qualified for the job."

"And what makes you think _I'm_ qualified?!" McCoy demanded. "I'm not a goddamned shrink!"

Kirk's blue eyes gazed at him evenly. "Bones, you're Chief Medical Officer of the _Enterprise._ We haven't got a Counselor onboard, so that means you're the _only_ one qualified to do this."

McCoy glared at Kirk, trying to hold onto his temper as long as he could, but the onslaught of reason coming from his captain made him sigh, and sink down into a chair. "I can't do it," he stated. "I just can't."

They were a week into their stay at Space Station K-3, and it had been decided that a Board of Inquiry would be set up to look into the matter regarding Gamble's treatment of Rebecca. It consisted of Federation and Starfleet officers present at the station, including Captain Odell of the _Anubis _– not that he really had much choice since his ship was still being repaired. Naturally, the officers and crew of the _Excalibur_ and _Enterprise_ were excluded from the Board, since it was possible for there to be a conflict of interest. They were, however, required to cooperate with the board as much as possible, and in Kirk's case, that meant providing two things: first was a medical report documenting the condition Rebecca had been in when she was found; second was a testimony from Rebecca herself about how Gamble had treated her.

Providing the medical report had been no problem. It was standard procedure to document the diagnosis and treatment of every patient he had, and so McCoy had the medical report ready by the time the Board requested for it.

Rebecca's testimony, though, was going to be a bit harder to produce, even if it was seemingly easy on the surface. It required nothing more than the ship's counselor or an equivalent to sit and listen to Rebecca while she told the story of how it all happened, then take it all down so it could be presented as evidence against Gamble to the Board.

Kirk was right: technically speaking, McCoy was the only one who was qualified to take her statement. The _Enterprise_ had no counselor, hence that duty fell to him. But he felt – he _knew_ – he couldn't do it.

"Bones," Kirk said, "you're the only one who can do it."

McCoy shook his head. "I can't Jim. I'm sorry, I know this is really important, but I _can't_."

"C'mon, what Gamble said about you and Rebecca-"

"-Might not be entirely false." McCoy smiled wryly at Kirk's surprised expression. "Lots of us in Medical had a bit of a crush on her, Jim. What Gamble said was exaggerated, but he wasn't lying, either."

"Okay…" Kirk leaned back, thinking on that. "And you've liked Becky for how long?"

"I've just taken a bit of a fancy to her, nothing more."

"Then figuring out what he did to her should be easy right? I mean, you want to know about it as much as I do."

McCoy sighed. How was he going to explain to Kirk that he was in no condition to ask? How was he supposed to tell his Captain that stories of abuse were just about as troubling to him as they were to the one talking about them? How was he supposed to tell Kirk that these sorts of things simply ran too close to him on a personal level?

He looked up at Kirk again, and said, "Jim, there's just some things I can't stand hearing about, and stories of abuse are one of them. I can tell you, right here and now, that if I have to take down Becky's testimony, I'm going to make such a hash of it because I'll be throwing myself for a loop along with her."

McCoy had long since come to learn that Kirk's eyes could get hard and cold when he wanted to see right through a person, to try and understand their motivations when they said or did something. At last, Kirk asked, "Are you gonna tell me why?"

"Eventually. Not now."

"You'd better." Kirk exhaled wearily, closing his eyes as he did so. "What sort of excuse am I gonna give the Board when I tell them that I asked my First Officer, and not my Chief Medical Officer, to take down her testimony?"

Here McCoy smirked a little. "Tell them he's Vulcan. That ought to shut their traps right up."

Kirk gave him a look, though McCoy noticed he was smirking a little as well. "Careful there Bones. I know we like to poke fun at him, but even so, he's still our friend."

"Yeah, well, I'd stop if I ever saw him emotional, even just once – and by that, I don't mean violently."

"I told you about him and Uhura, right?"

"Yeah, but I won't believe it until I've seen it myself."

"I think I had enough of an eyeful the first time around," Kirk muttered as he stood up. "I'm telling Spock he's interviewing Becky. You go and tell her she's going to tell her story to him."

McCoy nodded in assent. As soon as Kirk was gone, though, he sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing them with his fingertips. He knew this was coming, but at the same time, he had hoped he wouldn't be forced to bring up the less savory parts of his past. He was only too glad Kirk hadn't forced the issue; he just wasn't quite ready yet to talk about it.

He got to his feet and headed for the turbolift. He knew that Rebecca would be with Uhura, since the Communications Officer felt that it would be better for them to stay together while Rebecca was on the _Enterprise_. Kirk thought it was a good idea too, and so did McCoy. Both of them felt that female company was something Rebecca desperately needed at the moment.

When he entered Uhura's quarters after being granted permission to come in, he found the two women sitting on Uhura's bed, an _omweso_ board (1) between the two of them, the game a supplement to their conversation. He smiled when he noted how relaxed the two seemed, and how Rebecca, who had shown signs of very deep sadness and fear for the first few days, had loosened up and was smiling a lot more frequently.

"Who's winning?" he asked as he approached. He had learned to play this game with Uhura, and though he liked the need for strategic thinking in order to win, he thought it moved a little too quickly for his taste. It wasn't like the long, intense games of three-dimensional chess that he liked to play with Kirk or Spock.

"She is," Rebecca said, gesturing to Uhura. "I can't beat her, ever."

"Neither could I," McCoy replied. "Gave up trying to after a while."

Uhura gave him a teasing look. "You always lose when you play against Spock, but you keep playing with him."

"Because I know that somewhere in there that logical mind of his has a crack I can exploit. And besides, Kirk beat him once. If Kirk could do it, I could."

He looked at Rebecca then, growing serious as he spoke. "Becky, it's been decided that Spock will take your testimony for the Board of Inquiry."

Rebecca, who had been midway through sowing her way across the board (2), paused, and looked up at him. "Spock, huh?" Her eyes went dark for a moment, but then she nodded. "Yeah, I think it might be better if he was the one to take my testimony."

McCoy didn't like that answer. It showed she preferred Spock all along, though why he could not imagine. "You're okay with that?"

"Yeah." She started sowing again. "With that logical mind of his, I'll have no choice but to stick to the facts. No time to get emotional. I kind of like it that way."

"Like I tell Spock, bottling up your emotions is not a good thing to do," McCoy told her. In the back of his mind, he wished she would just confide in him, tell him what was wrong.

Rebecca looked up at him again, and smiled sadly. "I know, but I need to keep them under for now. I…don't like hurting all the time."

McCoy nodded stiffly. Of course, he thought. Even Humans had to learn emotional control, because no one liked having their hearts rubbed raw all the time. He ought to have remembered that. Hadn't he been that way, too?

"Spock'll be interviewing you in my office," he said then, trying to keep his voice as even as possible. "I'll be around if you want me."

"I'll keep that in mind. Thanks, Leonard."

He left then, knowing he could say nothing else, do nothing else. What were you expecting, you dumbass, he asked himself as he made his way to the turbolift, and from there to his quarters near the Medical Bay. There was nothing he could do about it – not when he himself could barely get a handle on his own feelings concerning abuse. Christ, it wasn't even _his_ experience of it, and here he was, foisting it on Spock because he couldn't hack seeing Rebecca hurting.

But that was it, wasn't it? No, it was far more complicated than that. He had convinced himself that all he had was a crush on Rebecca; that that was all it really was, nothing more and nothing less. And yet here he was, feeling as if he'd been rejected because she hadn't questioned the decision to make Spock take down her testimony.

"You're an idiot, McCoy," he muttered disgustedly, lying down on his bed and throwing an arm over his eyes to block the light. He felt the urge to go for his flask of bourbon, but chose not to. Sleep, he told himself. He would go to sleep, and he would wake up, and everything would be all right.

Somehow, though, some other part of himself told him that he was a lying ass screamed at him for telling himself such an obvious lie, but he forced that part to shut up so he could get some sleep.

He didn't manage to drift off for another hour.

--+--

Rebecca was pacing, her feet padding back and forth over the floor of McCoy's office, where the interview for her testimony was to take place, and she hated it. She knew she only paced when she was nervous, and she hated feeling nervous. What did she have to be nervous about, anyway? She was only going to tell Spock what happened to her, things that were done and over with. They were all just a part of her past. She was well beyond them now. They couldn't touch her or hurt her. _He_ couldn't touch her or hurt her.

But whenever she thought about it, about everything that happened, she felt her hands start shaking, and she quickly pushed all thoughts to the back of her head. She still had _nightmares_ about everything. How the hell was she going to tell someone else all of this without going into a breakdown?

The door to McCoy's office swooshed open, and when she looked up she saw Spock come in, carrying a data pad in one hand and a small video recorder in the other.

Nervousness turned into outright dread. Was she really ready for this?

Spock stood there watching her, and she marveled at how even his face was, how calm – and non-judgmental. Perhaps she had feared that as well, that whoever took down her testimony would pass judgment on her actions and her decisions. But she could see now that Spock would do no such thing. As a Vulcan, he would only ask her to explain the logical progression of events from Point A to Point B.

It was for that reason she agreed to having Spock interview her, instead of McCoy, who as the Chief Medical Officer would normally have been the one to do so. It wasn't that she thought McCoy would pass judgment on her, but she felt that he would have become very upset. She saw how talking about Gamble always put his temper on edge; she thought that speaking about him would only making McCoy angrier. She didn't know _why_ he got angry, but she decided to simply sidestep the issue for the meantime.

Spock gestured to the table, where there were two chairs waiting for them. "Please have a seat, Rebecca."

Rebecca nodded, moved towards the chair closest to her, and sat down in it, Spock taking the seat across from her.

"We shall begin whenever you feel comfortable enough to do so," Spock said, readying the recorder at one end of the table so it would record the both of them. This, she knew, was part of evidence, since her testimony would have to be presented to the Board of Inquiry in both video and written copies.

She inhaled, closed her eyes briefly to will away the fear, and finally, looked up at Spock. "Okay, let's start."

He did not say anything for a while, simply watched her, before nodding his head. "Very well then." He paused for a beat, and then asked, "How did your relationship with Doctor Ethan Gamble begin?"

Rebecca exhaled. That was an easy place to start. "Doctor Ethan Gamble and I first met at Starfleet Academy. We were taking Exobiology and Exopathology (3) classes together, and as a result we were always in close contact with one another, even if he was an upperclassman. We started out as friends, but after a while, it wound up becoming more than just friendship."

"And this relationship continued when you were assigned to the _Excalibur_?"

"It was because of our relationship that I worked hard, so I could have the credentials to be on the _Excalibur. _He said that he would be extremely disappointed if I did not sign onto the _Excalibur,_ especially since he was willing to recommend me to Captain Harris if I did well enough. I saw no reason to disappoint him. His opinion…mattered highly to me."

It really had, back then. She always thought of Ethan as being far better than her, and if she wanted to win his affection permanently, she would have to be the best she could ever be.

Spock tilted his head. "And yet you continued to pursue extracurricular activities with the Dance Troupe. Logically speaking, such activities would be considered a hindrance to the pursuit of improving your academic standing."

"Ethan said he didn't mind. He allowed me to continue dancing on the Dance Troupe for as long as I wanted, because once I was assigned to the _Excalibur_ I wouldn't be able to dance anymore, and he didn't want to deprive me of a chance to enjoy it for as long as I could."

For a moment, Rebecca thought she saw Spock's eyebrow go up, but it could just have been a figment of her imagination, because when she blinked, his face was as composed as it had been when he first entered. Now that she thought about it, he hadn't even shifted in his chair the moment he sat down on it. The only movement from him was that of his mouth, his head, and the shifting of his fingers as they moved across the data pad, taking down her testimony.

Spock's gaze dropped down to his data pad, checking his input, before he looked up at her again. "Once you were on the _Excalibur_ together, did you continue to pursue romantic relations with Doctor Gamble?"

She nodded, inhaling a long breath to steady herself further. "Yes. We both knew there would be questions, since he was Chief Medical Officer, and I answered to him as head of the Trauma Unit. We were very careful to maintain professionalism in the workplace, though. We treated the Medical Bay like a pair of workmates would an office on Earth: no hanky-panky from nine to five, so to speak. But once we were out the door and off-duty it was a different story."

"How so?"

"We would go to his quarters, or to mine. Spend time together. When we were on shore leave we would have dinner someplace quiet, away from everyone else, or do something, just the two of us. Ethan preferred it when it was just the two of us; he didn't like it much when other people were around. Sometimes he got mad when I wanted to hang out with my friends more than go out with him. After a while I just spent all my time with him. I didn't want him to get mad at me."

"Was this normal for Doctor Gamble?"

"It was. I thought it was kind of sweet, even if sometimes I thought he was taking it a bit too far. I thought he was just being protective; some of my female friends had boyfriends who easily got jealous, and they were happy with them, so I thought it was normal. After a while though…" She swallowed, remembering the numerous instances when she had brushed off his attitude as mere overprotection, when in truth it was so much more than that.

Spock did not speak for a while; his gaze was locked on his data pad. He was scrolling through something, though from where she was seated Rebecca couldn't tell for sure what it was.

When Spock did look up at her, his eyes were incredibly blank, as if he felt nothing for everything she had said thus far. She felt her spirits rise. Maybe she could get through this without cracking.

"According to Doctor McCoy's report, you sustained injuries consistent with those found on victims of physical abuse. Did Doctor Gamble indeed do such a thing?"

Rebecca swallowed hard, and fisted her hands in her skirt, trying to keep them from shaking. "Yes."

"How did it happen?"

"He hit me. It started when… It was a few days after I accepted his marriage proposal. We had rescued a group of colonists from a planet populated by extremely hostile life forms, and we had just finished seeing to their injuries. I wanted to check on them one last time, to make sure the medications had taken effect, but he… He said I didn't need to. I said I wanted to do it anyway, that I'd be with him in a moment, but he insisted, and I refused. Then he hit me."

Silence again, and Rebecca wanted to run. She saw how white her knuckles had gone, but she couldn't feel the pain. All she could feel was the pressing need to get away, to run somewhere and hide.

Finally, Spock spoke again, but it was no better than his last question. "How often did these incidents occur?"

"Often… Fairly frequently over the last…last six months. He would- Sometimes if I didn't agree with him, he would hit me. He would ask me to come to his office, and he would hit me for something I said or did." She swallowed hard again; it was getting a bit hard to breathe. "He would...punish me for…for little things, like saying hi to a friend. It didn't matter if they were…if they were male or female, Human or…otherwise. He said I was flirting, and that- He said I had no right, because I belonged to him."

"When did he start sedating you?"

"A- I think it was maybe around the same time. Every time we approached a starbase he would sedate me and…and lock me up in his quarters, or in one of the large storage closets in the Medical Bay. If he had…if he had hit me too many times, and the bruises showed, he'd knock me out and keep me in his quarter until I was…until the bruises were gone."

"Why did you not speak of this to anyone on your ship?"

"I couldn't. I was… I was afraid." Rebecca wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold herself together. "I was afraid no one would believe me, and I thought something bad would happen if I said anything. Ethan- Ethan said he would kill me. He'd know if I told anyone, and he'd kill me. And when I'd try- When I first tried to contact Jim, he beat me. When he found out that- When he knew the _Enterprise_ would be docking with the _Excalibur,_ he'd sedate me and stick me in the- He'd put me in the storage closet, so people would assume I was out at the starbase or space station. I couldn't reach anyone."

When was this going to end? When were the questions going to stop? She was feeling nauseous, and wanted nothing more than to run and look for a safe place to hide, someplace where no one could reach her.

Finally, Spock asked what she sensed was the final question. "Do you guarantee that everything you have said so far is the truth, and that if the veracity of this testimony is brought into question, you are willing to confirm it as truth before those who question it?"

She nodded, hard, wanting to just get away already. But when she saw the look that Spock gave her, she remembered she had to give a verbal statement of agreement for the video recorder, she answered, "Yes. I confirm it as truth."

"Thank you, Doctor Sanders." Spock reached out, and turned the video recorder off. And then, in a move Rebecca found totally unexpected, he stood up, approached her, and placed his hands on her shoulders, as if steadying her. And his eyes, when she looked up into them, practically radiated kindness, sympathy – and behind them, something darker, but she couldn't clearly see it for what it was.

"You have been very strong, Rebecca," he said, his voice low, quiet, reassuring. "It was clear speaking of those events was no easy thing for you."

She bowed her head, and shook it. She couldn't say anything; there was a lump in her throat and as it was she could barely breathe around it, much less talk.

"You need not worry," Spock said then. "This evidence should be sufficient to ensure Gamble is placed in a reorientation center for a very long time."

Are you sure of that, she wanted to ask. Was Spock certain that Gamble would go to prison for what he had done? There were many ways he could get out of a conviction, after all. The Board of Inquiry could still rule in his favor.

She didn't notice that Spock had knelt down until he had put his arms around her, drawing her into an embrace. Startled by the gesture, she pulled back, and Spock answered her question before she had even voiced it: "It is logical to offer comfort to one so troubled."

"But you're-"

"Yes, but also half-Human. I understand the need to seek the touch of another during such instances. Moreover," here Rebecca swore Spock smiled a little, "it was what my mother often did for me, as a child. I would offer you the same comfort now."

Rebecca didn't remember nodding, only Spock pulling her slightly towards him, one of his hands rubbing gently up and down her back in a soothing gesture. The only thing she remembered was that she cried, cried as she had never allowed herself to before, and that it felt all right to do so.

* * *

NOTES:

1 - _Omweso_ is a mancala-type game popular in Uganda, and like all mancala-type games, often very similar to chess in that it requires quite a bit of strategic thinking in order to win. In the prime reality Uhura is very proud of her African heritage, so it wouldn't be surprising if she kept a board for a mancala-type game with her on the _Enterprise,_ and would have taught the game to anyone who was willing to play it with her. I thought the Uhura of the alternate reality would be the same, hence this scene.

2 - This is the primary move in mancala-type games, wherein the player puts counters (usually beans, large seeds, or cowry shells) in bowls or pits on the board.

3 - If exobiology is the study of alien life forms, then exopathology is the study and diagnosis of alien disease. With so many people going out into space, and with so many aliens coming to Earth, it makes sense that there would be such a course for medical students, particularly those who are in Starfleet.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

This, so Kirk believed, was a rare and most interesting opportunity: the chance to observe his usually stoic Vulcan Science Officer looking rather…well, Kirk wasn't quite sure just _what_ was going on with Spock. He had looked that way since he turned over a copy of Rebecca's testimony to Kirk, and for the _Enterprise's_ captain, that was just an opportunity that could not be passed up.

"What's bugging you, Spock?" he asked nonchalantly as he put aside the testimony – he'd read it later, in private, when he didn't have to worry about throwing something at anyone.

Spock shook his head; obviously he'd gotten used to Human figures of speech pretty quickly after a year aboard the _Enterprise_. "Nothing is troubling me, Captain."

"Bullshit. And you know you don't have to call me 'Captain' right now." Kirk waved a hand around to indicate his quarters. "You know when I invite you in here, you're here as my friend first and an officer only when I ask for it."

"Indeed. You have told me so several times in the past."

"Then why don't you tell me what's going on in that skull of yours? It'd be nice to know what's happening in there."

Spock's eyes shut, in a gesture Kirk easily recognized as one indicating that the Vulcan was giving his request some serious thought, though whether Spock would or would not say what he was thinking about really depended on whether or not he wanted to talk about it.

In the end, though, Spock opened his eyes, looked straight at Kirk, and said, "I could never have imagined Human males could be so cruel to their females."

Kirk blinked, and then nodded. "They can be. There are plenty of cases of abuse-"

"I am aware of such stories. Perhaps this is a lesson in the contrasts between fiction and reality; the reality is always harsher and crueler than anything in fiction." Spock glanced at the data pad he had given Kirk, which contained the copy he had made of Rebecca's testimony. "I find it difficult to understand how she could have wished to marry such a man. It flies in the face of all logic."

"There's no such thing as logic when it comes to love," Kirk replied, shrugging his shoulders, and while seemingly nonchalant, it was a very, very true statement. "Becky's hardly the type to be a victim, to be sure, but when you're in love… Everything just goes right out the window, and you walk around with blinders and rose-colored glasses."

"That is utterly illogical."

"That's the nature of the beast."

"But love need not be so."

Kirk smiled slightly. "Is it always so cut-and-dry with Uhura then?" Before Spock could put together a proper answer to that question, he added, "Bet you're gonna say no, and in many ways, it's true. Spock, by its nature love is a crazy, crazy thing. And that's the beauty of it."

Spock gave him a look that Kirk took for disbelief. "What I know of your personal history does not encourage me to believe you when you say such a thing."

"What, you don't think I was ever in love before?" Kirk laughed, and shook his head. "Guess I can't blame you. But I've been in love: the crazy, head-over-heels, pain-and-pleasure kind. Just never thought to go after her."

"Now I am certain that you are 'pulling my leg,' as the figure of speech goes. The idea that you would not pursue a woman whom you desired is illogical."

Kirk's gaze drifted to his desk computer. "I know my reputation, Spock. It's one of the main reasons why I didn't go after her in the first place." In a softer voice, he added, "And I was just a farm boy from Iowa who stood no chance at someone like her."

There was silence, as if Spock was processing the information. When the Vulcan spoke again, though, for some reason, he sounded sympathetic. "You are a starship captain now. That is a long way from a 'farm boy from Iowa,' which you seem to think is demeaning. What stops you, then, from pursuing her now?"

"Lots of things, but the biggest thing is that I don't know her name."

"… You claim to be in love with a woman whose name you do not know."

"Yeah, yeah, pathetic, I know, but I didn't know how to get it at the time. But I can tell you, I'd be able to tell you who she was, even in the middle of a crowd." Kirk waved his hand dismissively. "Now's not the time to talk about that, though. You were saying about Becky?"

Spock's gaze bored into him, and Kirk returned that stare. He knew the Vulcan was wondering about the sudden change of topic, but thankfully, hadn't decided to question it, and instead, replied, "I know I am no psychologist, Jim, but I like to think I am capable of identifying troubling patterns of behavior in Humans on occasion."

Kirk raised an eyebrow. "Troubling patterns of behavior?" He leaned forward, curious. "What're you talking about?"

"I merely believe that Rebecca is more troubled than we initially assumed. Six months of abuse have taken their toll on her. If you will look at her testimony, she speaks of being 'allowed' to do things, of permission granted, or not, in certain cases. Her wording indicates that the abuse has imprinted a certain behavioral pattern of submission and servitude."

"Are you saying Gamble treated Becky like a slave?"

"I think a more suitable term would be 'property,' " Spock replied. "If you will recall, he spoke of her as if she were a possession, something to be owned." He paused briefly, then added, "It has ruined Rebecca's sense of self."

"Motherfucking _bastard,_" Kirk snarled, unable to contain himself. "You're saying he _broke_ Becky?"

"I suppose that is how you would put it. She has been valiant in her attempts to keep herself together, but it is quite obvious she has not recovered from the experience."

Kirk leaped up from his chair, and started pacing – which was better than just going out of the door, heading to the _Excalibur's_ brig, and beating Gamble's brains out. The bastard had broken Rebecca? His beautiful, confident, headstrong cousin had been _broken_? Well, he thought, that was going to be the first and the last time such a thing was going to happen, if he was going to have his way.

He moved to the intercom on his desk. "Kirk to Medical. Bones, come up here to my quarters. There's something you, me, and Spock gotta talk about."

--+--

"Achoo!"

Sulu blinked at Rebecca, surprised by the sneeze she caught in her hands. The sound, though muffled, caught the attention of a few other people in the Mess Hall, but they quickly returned to their own business. "Bless you," he murmured.

"Thanks," Rebecca replied, before grinning at him. "So how does it feel, piloting the _Enterprise_?"

"Fantastic like you wouldn't believe. It's a great ship, and Jim's a great captain. Gets us into trouble a lot, sure, but I'm not complaining much. We've gotten out alive, for the most part."

Rebecca laughed. "Let me guess: he still charges into situations half-cocked?"

Sulu grinned, but nodded. "Sure he does. I guess you can't change that part of him. But Spock and Bones are doing a great job of making sure he doesn't do something entirely stupid."

"Or entirely suicidal." She sneezed again, and this time started looking around.

"What's the matter?"

"I don't know. I'll tell you when I figure it out."

At that moment, Montgomery Scott wandered over to them, smiling pleasantly, though most of it was directed at Rebecca. "Well now," he remarked, his accent quite pronounced, "is this lovely lassie the Rebecca Sanders I've heard much of?"

Sulu nodded, gesturing for Scotty to take a seat with them. "That she is. Becky, this is Montgomery Scott, our Chief Engineer."

Rebecca smiled up at Scotty, and held her hand out for him to shake. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Scott. Jim talks about you a lot."

"Pleasure's all mine," Scotty replied, and instead of shaking Rebecca's hand, he kissed the back of it, grinning roguishly as he did so. "And please, call me Scotty. All my friends do."

Sulu rolled his eyes. "Ignore him. He always flirts when he comes across a girl."

"At least he's better at it than- Achoo!" Rebecca sneezed again, and this time, she was looking at Scotty with a very odd gaze. At length, she asked, "Mister- I mean, Scotty, I hope you don't mind me asking, but do you own a tribble (1)?"

Scotty nodded, grinning widely. "That I do. Name's Melissa, and as fine a lady as any I've ever met. I could bring her up to meet you, if you'd like."

But Sulu noticed that Rebecca was already shaking her head rapidly, even before Scotty had finished talking. "Oh, no, no, Scotty, that's okay. I'm allergic to tribbles."

"You're _allergic_ to tribbles?" Sulu asked, surprised. "But didn't you say you wanted one before? I think we were nine or ten when you said so."

Rebecca nodded, but this time she pressed a piece of tissue from her pocket to her nose. "I know I'm allergic, but you know how they say repeated exposure to the allergen eventually kills the allergy? I adore tribbles, really, but Mom wouldn't let me keep one because Dad's allergic to them."

"Well," Scotty remarked, "and that's a terrible condition to have. But if you want to try to treat yourself by exposure to a tribble, I'd be right happy to lend you Melissa for as long as you need her." He leaned in closer to her and Sulu. "Just make sure you don't feed her, aye? I promised the Captain I'd not let Melissa have any bairns, seeing as they can easily overrun a ship like the _Enterprise_ and eat us out o' house and home."

Rebecca smiled. "Oh, don't worry, I know what you mean. I'll just have to take some antihistamines first, just to make sure my allergy doesn't get out of hand." She wrinkled her nose, and sniffled. "Allergic rhinitis is _not_ fun."

"Yo Scotty!" Kirk's voice sailed over to them from the other side of the Mess Hall. "Back up from Becky a little if you haven't changed your uniform. She's allergic to tribbles."

Sulu laughed when Rebecca rolled her eyes in annoyance. "Thank you very much for making that broadcast, _Captain._"

"Ooh, you learn that tone from Uhura?" As Kirk joined them at their table, Sulu noted that the smile on the Captain's face indicated something had been decided, and he was very, very satisfied with that decision.

Kirk glanced at Rebecca, and Sulu was able to relate to the warmth in his eyes when he looked at her. "You remember how I said I was glad you were home when you first woke up?"

Rebecca nodded. "Sure I do."

"Well, how's about you really _do_ come home? How about you stay here on the _Enterprise_ – permanently?"

Sulu's eyes widened, as did Rebecca's. "You're having Becky transferred here?" he asked.

"Working on it right now. It's understandable that Harris wouldn't want her to leave, but after everything that's happened…" Kirk shook his head as he turned to Rebecca. "I'd feel much better if you were somewhere I can keep an eye on you. And before you kick me for assuming you can't take care of yourself, I'm having you transferred here because I like the idea of keeping family close by. Besides," and here Kirk grinned broadly. "didn't you join Starfleet so you could work on a starship with me?"

Sulu glanced at Rebecca, and noticed that there was a soft smile on her face. He knew that Kirk and Rebecca were pretty close, since when she came over to visit his family in San Francisco she would never stop talking about a cousin she called "Jimmy." Little could he have imagined that the "Jimmy" she was talking about would wind up being the captain of the starship Sulu was flying.

"That I did," Rebecca remarked. Her smile faltered. "But I owe Captain Harris a lot. And the crew-"

"-is not going to be a problem. I've already talked to Harris, and I've convinced him to transfer you to the _Enterprise_ if I let him have Doctor Sandoval."

Rebecca, Sulu noticed, was beginning to look distinctly uncomfortable about the whole conversation. "All right," she murmured, "but I want to speak with Captain Harris first. It just doesn't seem right for all of this to happen without me talking to him. I've served on the _Excalibur_ this past year. She might not be the _Enterprise,_ but her crew is wonderful, and I don't feel right just up and leaving without at least explaining myself."

"Sure. As soon as the Board of Inquiry's done with its job and Gamble's off the ship, you can go and say goodbye."

Rebecca nodded, and then a small, wicked smile crept its way onto her face – an attempt, so Sulu thought, to cover up the sadness in her eyes. "Just make sure you don't regret having me aboard. I get the feeling we'd kill each other in a week."

"If we fought you'd have no choice but to patch me up again, so we might as well not, right?"

"What makes you think I'd patch you up?"

"Aw c'mon Becky! Don't you love me anymore?"

"Sometimes I wonder…"

"Now you're just being mean."

Rebecca stuck her tongue out at him, but this time she stood up. "I have to go to Medical. Need to get some antihistamines." She smiled at Scotty. "I'll consult Doctor McCoy about the desensitization treatment I have in mind. If he gives me the go signal, would it be all right for me to borrow Melissa?"

"Gladly," Scotty replied cheerfully, and all three of them watched as Rebecca got into the turbolift, ostensibly heading to Medical.

Sulu glanced at Kirk. "Are you serious about having her transferred here?" he asked. He was of the same mind as Kirk, to be sure, but he also knew that it came altogether too close to taking the decision out of Rebecca's hands. If there was anything both he and his captain knew, it was that Rebecca Sanders was one to make her own decisions, not let anyone take them away from her.

"I am," Kirk said, nodding his head slowly. "I know she's a strong girl, but right now, I don't think she's as strong as she likes to think she is, and I bet she knows that too. After what that asshole did to her, she's just not the same Becky anymore."

Sulu nodded his head, though he hated acknowledging the idea. Rebecca _had _changed – and no one was going to deny that.

The only thing that had _not_ changed, though, was Scotty's observation: "Now that's a mighty fine lass right there. Would be happy to be her 'shoulder to cry on,' if you know what I mean."

Sulu grinned then, because Kirk's reply was just as predictable: "You make a move on her Scotty, and I'm shoving you out an airlock – _without_ a spacesuit."

"I was just makin' an honest observation, Captain!"

"Well make sure they _stay_ observations."

"Ah now Captain, you're treating me unfair! You know my first love will always be this ship!"

Sulu shook his head, though he was smiling. He was sure this argument would go on for a while, and Kirk didn't need his help in "defending Becky's honor," which was the phrase that had just jumped out of the Captain's mouth. Instead, he quietly murmured an "Excuse me," and only stayed long enough to see that he was acknowledged by the two other men before he went back to his station on the bridge.

--+--

Rebecca leaned back, covering her eyes with her hands as she uttered a soft moan. It was the ninth day of her stay on the _Enterprise,_ and she knew that in a few more hours, the Board of Inquiry would decide whether or not to set Gamble free. The idea alone made her shiver, so she occupied herself by reading up on medical articles she hadn't had the chance to review while she was on the _Excalibur._

"Brushing up on your tropical disease pathology?"

She all but jumped out of her chair in surprise, and when she spun around, she saw McCoy standing nearby. "Don't _do_ that!"

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you." He came over, and read the screen over her shoulder. "What's this on _Flaviviridae _(2) viruses?"

"It's genus-specific to _Flavivirus _(3), actually. I've wanted to read this article for a while now; it documents the spread of this type of virus to other species aside from Humans. See, look at this." Rebecca scrolled down the document a little. "It details how a couple of cases have recently cropped up of Vulcans testing positive for one of the dengue serotypes (4)."

"Lethal?"

"No conclusive evidence yet. See, even the vectors (5) are unknown. It'd be impossible for Terran mosquitoes to want to suck Vulcan blood, after all."

McCoy snorted. "No surprise no mosquitoes would wanna suck on any green-blooded hobgoblins. But if those aren't the vectors, then what is? And how the hell did those Vulcans get it to begin with?"

"Not so sure. I have a feeling it might have been cross-infection off-planet, with a vector that can consume Vulcan blood, but can also bite Humans. Vector might have bitten an infected Human, and transferred the virus to a Vulcan." Rebecca frowned. "But viruses take time to mutate; even the flu viruses of the twenty-first century took time to migrate from their animal hosts to Humans (6)."

"Humans and Vulcans aren't so different genetically. And we both know viruses can mutate with incredible speed." McCoy paused, and gave her a long look. "Are you okay?"

Rebecca blinked up at him, trying to get her eyes to refocus a bit. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"You've been rubbing your eyes and blinking like an owl in a brightly-lit barn for the past couple of minutes."

"Oh, that! It's nothing, just eyestrain."

"Sure it is. C'mere, let me have a look at you." Before Rebecca could even protest, McCoy had spun her chair around so that she was facing him completely, and he had his tricorder out with the handheld scanner hovering around her head. After a moment, the scanner disappeared from her field of vision, and she was looking at McCoy's disapproving face.

"What?" she asked.

"Have you been getting enough sleep lately?"

Rebecca opened her mouth to argue, but McCoy cut her off by saying, "No, you haven't, have you? Your eyes are showing indications of more than the normal eyestrain that one would expect from sitting in front of a computer and reading all day."

"… Sleep's been hard to come by these past few nights." She looked away, knowing McCoy was right. She hadn't been able to sleep well. She still had nightmares about Gamble, and then there was the fact the Board of Inquiry was still in the process of deciding what was to be done about the current situation. Between those two factors, it was either she closed her eyes and woke with a scream in her throat, or stared at the ceiling of Uhura's quarters and did not sleep at all.

McCoy's expression softened, and his voice dropped a little in pitch. "You should've told me if you had a hard time sleeping."

"I don't want drugs."

"Oh come on, you know as well as I do that the old prejudices against hypnotic drugs are completely outdated (7). Sleep deprivation's really nasty: it weakens your immune system, makes your hands shake, your memory goes out of whack, and eventually you wind up with hallucinations and either kill yourself or everyone else around you."

Rebecca laughed. "I think I'm still far, far away from the part when I go psycho and start killing people, Leonard."

"True, but every day that you lose sleep brings you one step closer to that state. What's keeping you up anyway?"

Rebecca started to reply, but then stopped dead. How could she explain to McCoy that she dreaded falling asleep because she didn't want to dream, if her own frantic worrying didn't keep her up anyway? She closed her eyes, and whispered the one word that encompassed everything she dreaded about sleep: "Nightmares."

McCoy was silent at first, then he said, "Ethan." It was a statement, not a question.

"Always." Rebecca laughed softly as she finally looked up at McCoy. "I feel so pathetic. I try telling myself that I'm safe, that he can't hurt me anymore, but when I go to sleep I get these nightmares, and I…" She shook her head helplessly.

"Mind telling me what they're about?" McCoy asked. When Rebecca gave him a quizzical look, he smiled, and said, "Becky, it's not as if we're total strangers. Before Ethan corralled you all to himself you and I spent a lot of time together with a whole lot of other people, one big group of people."

Rebecca laughed. Well, _that_ much was true. "We did indeed." She sighed. "I miss those days."

"What, you miss the days when Carrie Jones would drink the both of us under the table?" McCoy shared her laughter, but he shook his head. "You and I, we were friends. Really good friends. If there's anything I miss, it's that."

Rebecca smiled softly. What McCoy had said was true: before Ethan Gamble, there was a troupe of rowdy friends who played just as hard as they worked, and one of them had been Leonard McCoy. Those times had been some of the happiest she ever had.

"So do I," she murmured.

The smile on McCoy's face was remarkably similar to the one she used to see on him during their days at the Academy, and it comforted her to see it. "So does that mean you'll give serious consideration to your transfer here?"

Rebecca nodded. "I am. It's just…when Jim dropped the news on my head I wasn't totally prepared for it. I had always assumed I'd stay with the _Excalibur._ I figured maybe he was just being overprotective."

"No, Jim isn't being overprotective." McCoy paused, then shrugged. "Well, he _is,_ but I also had a practical reason for wanting you aboard."

"Oh? And what would that be?"

McCoy's gaze was level, serious. "Becky, it's well-known in the Academy that you were – are – one of the best trauma surgeons Starfleet's got. I know I've said it before, and I'll say it again now, because I mean it and I know so. The _Enterprise_ sees a lot more trouble than the _Excalibur,_ especially since our Captain's brain occasionally shrinks to the size of a bull's in heat, which means he charges straight into trouble without thinking about the consequences. Don't get me wrong: he's gotten results, and eventually Starfleet'll decorate him with so many medals he'll fall over, but his recklessness has caused quite a few problems from a medical perspective. I need an experienced trauma surgeon in this Medical Bay, someone who can build and lead a capable team and handle emergencies in the middle of, say, getting attacked by Klingon warbirds."

"But I thought you guys had Doctor Isaiah Sandoval?" Rebecca asked with a frown. "Everyone's said the man's a miracle-worker."

"He is, but he hasn't got the focus needed to perform surgery while the _Enterprise_ is performing a crazy flanking maneuver Sulu and Chekov came up with in the heat of the moment. _You,_ on the other hand, have that focus."

"But-"

"I know, you don't want to leave Captain Harris or the _Excalibur's_ crew, but we need you here more than they do there. _I_ need you here."

It wasn't the words that surprised Rebecca: it was the look in McCoy's eyes. The only other time she had seen him look at her that way was when she was complaining about the bandage on her face, the day she woke up on the _Enterprise._

It was also the same look that she remembered McCoy got when he was around Nancy Cunningham (8) with whom he was very romantically involved until Nancy called off their relationship. "Leonard-"

"You don't have to answer right away," McCoy said, professional all of a sudden, and Rebecca noticed he wasn't looking directly at her anymore. "I know it's a major, career-altering decision. You can take your time about it."

"Okay."

An awkward silence expanded between them, and while Rebecca was trying to figure out something to say to fill it with, the intercom chimed, and Kirk's voice filled in the void.

"Bones, is Becky there with you?"

McCoy glanced at Rebecca, and nodded. "Yeah. Why?"

"Could the two of you come up here to the bridge? The Board of Inquiry's about done with their deliberation, and they're about to make the official ruling."

Ice filled Rebecca's veins. This was it, she thought. This would determine whether or not she could move on with her life, whether or not she could start picking up the pieces and put herself back together again.

"We're on our way up," McCoy replied. When the intercom went silent, he approached her, holding out his hand, smiling that reassuring smile. "C'mon Becky."

Rebecca exhaled loudly, took McCoy's hand, and let him pull her up from her seat and lead her to the turbolift, and from there to the bridge, where she would find out whether or not she could, at the very least, put her anxieties aside, and begin work on putting the nightmares at bay.

* * *

NOTES:

1 - A tribble is a creature that essentially looks like a ball of fur, with no visible eyes, ears, mouth, limbs, or tail. A tribble made a brief cameo in the movie: it's the cooing ball of fluff that Scotty kept in a cage at the station on Delta Vega. The closest possible comparable creature I can think of equivalent to a tribble is the puffskein from _Harry Potter – _incidentally, it is entirely possible that the tribble provided the inspiration for the puffskein, since they look the same and either purr or coo when happy.

2 - This is a family of viruses spread mostly by bloodsucking insects such as ticks and mosquitoes. Included in this family are viruses that cause yellow fever and hepatitis C, which affect humans; and classical swine fever and bovine diarrhea, which affect animals.

3 - _Flavivirus_ is a specific genus of viruses under family _Flaviviridae._ Under this genus are included viruses that cause West Nile encephalitis, dengue fever, and tick-borne encephalitis.

4 - The virus responsible for dengue fever has four recognized serotypes, which can be thought of as "variations" of a similar "species" of virus. My understanding could be completely wrong, though, so clarification would be nice.

5 - A vector is an organism that is responsible for the transmission of a disease, but not for causing the disease itself. Mosquitoes are vectors because they can transmit dengue, but aren't affected by it themselves.

6 - Refer to SARS and the A(H1N1) viruses; these are the most familiar and contemporary examples of virus migration from animals to humans, but such migration has been going on for a while now.

7 - It is a well-understood fact in our time that hypnotic drugs, or drugs that induce sleep that are used for the treatment of insomnia and during surgery, are too dangerous to use on a regular basis because they can cause dependency and upset natural sleep cycles, not to mention there is the danger of overdose. I think it is safe to presume that in the twenty-third century (the century in which _Star Trek_ is set) there is a set of hypnotics which no longer induce these problems in their users.

8 - A reference to the woman named Nancy Crater, wife of Robert Crater, from the episode "The Man Trap" in the original series. It is stated in the episode that she and McCoy were involved for a while, but they broke up in 2256. Since the events of the movie occurred in 2258, I see no reason to change this particular romantic entanglement. "Cunningham" is a name I gave her for sake of giving her a surname pre-marriage, since Nancy Crater's actual maiden name is unknown.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

Nathan Harris, Captain of the _Excalibur,_ was feeling more than just tired – he was feeling absolutely, utterly drained. While there had been moments in the past year when he'd felt as if some days were longer than others, the time he and his crew had spent so far on Space Station K-3 was beginning to feel much, much longer. What was worse was that it wasn't because they were in the midst of some battle or dealing with a diplomatic problem: no, the problem was internal, and from a person he had least expected problems to come from.

When Doctor Ethan Gamble's name had come up on a list of candidates for the position of Chief Medical Officer of the _Excalibur,_ he had thought he could do worse than choose this man, who came with a strong resume and the recommendations to match. An interview with Gamble only confirmed his choice. Gamble struck him as cool, calm, and ready to take personal risks as long as they ensured the safety and health of the crew, and this was what impressed Harris the most.

When Gamble requested that he be allowed to bring on Doctor Rebecca Sanders as a part of the medical staff, Harris had permitted it, rightly suspecting that Gamble's choice of primary trauma surgeon was both professional and romantic. To her credit, Doctor Sanders came with strong recommendations as well, with many of her professors citing her ability to work in the worst conditions with optimal focus – something which Harris considered very important in a trauma surgeon. And since Harris really wasn't one of those old hard-liners who believed that romance was a deterrent to the efficiency of a crew, he accepted Sanders as a part of his crew.

For the first year of the _Excalibur's_ mission, he had not regretted his decision at all. As far as he could tell, not only were Gamble and Sanders professional in their work, but they made an excellent team. Though the _Excalibur's_ crew had found itself in trouble more often than not, with those two tending to them, there had been minimal loss of life. It helped, too, that Sanders was a very pleasant sort of woman, willing to make friends with other people, compensating for Gamble's rather antisocial personality.

If only he had known what that antisocial nature of his _really_ meant, then perhaps he would not have accepted Sanders on the _Excalibur, _might have let someone else on the fleet take her on_._ It might have spared the poor girl so much grief…

"Captain? Is something the matter?"

Harris glanced up at Commander Min Zheng, and smiled slightly. "Nothing is wrong Commander. Simply… Regrets, I suppose. I think it didn't have to be this way, but here we are." He paused, simply looking at Zheng. "Did you know of this beforehand?"

"I suspected, sir, but I let it slide," Zheng replied, keeping her voice low. "I disapproved of the affair to begin with, but since you yourself did not seem to find anything wrong with their relationship, I decided to simply keep my ideas to myself. I didn't think it was my place to reprimand them."

"And you did not speak to me of this because…?"

"As I said, sir, I did not think it was my place."

Harris sighed. If only Zheng had spoken up, maybe he would have paid closer attention, and this disaster could have been avoided. "We have been serving together a year, Commander, and I had hoped you have come to understand that you have the freedom to tell me anything, if not publicly on this bridge, then privately. I'm not omniscient, after all; I don't always know what's going on with every single crewmember on this ship. Neither do you, I'm sure, but between the two of us we can manage somehow."

"I'm sorry," Zheng murmured. "I know I had the privilege you speak of, but what I felt was merely disapproval for the situation. I had some suspicions regarding Gamble, but I dismissed them as foolish."

She did not speak for a while, and the both of them were preoccupied with minor preparations in lieu of the Board of Inquiry to contacting them via the bridge's viewscreen. Both the _Enterprise_ and the _Excalibur_ were docked at Space Station K-3, and the Board of Inquiry was also present in a physical sense in the same place, but it was thought best for the crews to stay in their respective starships, to keep both out of trouble.

Not that anyone from either side would want to do such a thing, Harris mused. His people were good people, and so were Kirk's. They weren't the sort of folks who would start fights over this affair. And besides, as far as he could gauge his own crew, they were clearly appalled by what had happened to Doctor Sanders, many of them firmly on her side in this.

When Zheng spoke again, she asked, "Are you really letting Doctor Sanders transfer to the _Enterprise_?"

Harris nodded. "I am." He raised an eyebrow slightly as he glanced at his First Officer. "Do you question my decision?"

"I merely think it would be a waste. We need Doctor Sanders more than the _Enterprise _does. With Gamble gone, we could have her promoted to Chief Medical Officer, keeping her talents on this ship."

"Practical, as always." And that, Harris thought, was why he'd chosen Zheng as his second-in-command: the woman was not anything if not practical. Sure, Kirk had the renowned Vulcan Spock at his side, but Harris was downright proud of his choice for First Officer. "However, I think this time it would be wiser for Doctor Sanders to be transferred."

"Why?"

"Speaking in a practical manner, I don't think she is capable of becoming Chief Medical Officer after everything that's happened. She's in a very emotional state, and I don't need that in someone who is going to be in charge of Medical Bay. Also, she does not have enough experience yet to take the position. She has served this ship well, to be sure, but I simply do not think she has enough leadership experience."

Zheng nodded slowly. "A good point." She sighed softly then. "But don't you think Captain Kirk is getting a bit greedy with his crew? He has the cream of the crop on his ship. I know the _Enterprise_ is the flagship, but seriously…"

Harris couldn't help but smile in amusement. "Are you saying our crew is not the best? Certainly, Captain Kirk has a great deal of talent on his side, but the _Excalibur_ is a good, strong ship, crewed by some of the best people in Starfleet – and by that, I don't mean they have the best resumes or the most talent or even the strongest recommendations." He gestured to the bridge. "The people on this ship, here and now, are the best because they are precisely what the _Excalibur _needs – and people whom I, as Captain, trust with my life."

A smile – so rare on the face of the woman most people called the "Iron Dragon" – appeared on Zheng's face, and she bowed her head in graceful acceptance of the compliment. "Thank you, Captain."

"Captain," called Lieutenant Dominic Anders from the communications station, "the Board is contacting us, requesting a conference feed."

Harris nodded as he straightened in his chair. "Very well, patch them through."

"Yes, sir."

It did not take long for the feed to come through, and in no time flat they were in a virtual conference with Kirk and his officers on the _Enterprise's_ bridge; the Board of Inquiry in the Space Station's main conference room; and, in a feed from Earth, the key members of the Starfleet Medical Board, headed by Doctor Shamira Hakim, Starfleet Surgeon General. The _Enterprise_ and the _Excalibur_ represented the aggrieved parties, while the Board of Inquiry represented both the Federation and Starfleet, with the Federation standing for civil laws and Starfleet for its own military codes. The Surgeon General, on the other hand, represented the specific power to whom all doctors in Starfleet answered, and hence the only governing body that could truly strip any Starfleet doctor of their power to practice medicine.

All the Powers That Be had gathered to decide on how to rule on this situation, and Harris knew, judging solely by Doctor Hakim's presence, that things were about to get unpleasant for Gamble.

There was much talk going back and forth – formalities, really, as far as Harris was concerned. They all knew the facts: Gamble had been beating and drugging Sanders, due to some heretofore unknown sociopathic tendencies no one had seen before. If Sanders had not contacted Captain Kirk when she had, it was highly likely she would have had to continue suffering with Gamble, if she did not die from a drug overdose before then. Reports and interviews from both the crew of the _Excalibur_ and the _Enterprise,_ as well as from Gamble and Sanders themselves, had pretty much made everything clear.

At last, the head of the Board of Inquiry, which was headed by Undersecretary Amal Lupei, said, "And in light of the evidence provided by both sides, this Board would like to ask Starfleet Medical Board for its recommendations on how to sentence Doctor Ethan Gamble for his crimes."

All eyes now focused on Doctor Hakim, who was staring straight at the screen and was not even paying attention to the soft conversation going on around her. Harris knew that look. It was the look Doctor Hakim got when she was most displeased with something, and had made up her mind about what she was going to do about it. Harris ought to know: he had been treated by Doctor Hakim before, and he had seen that look on her face more often than not.

"The ruling of the Starfleet Medical Board," Doctor Hakim said, her voice low and almost frighteningly soft, "is that the medical license of Ethan Gamble is to be permanently revoked, forbidding him from practicing medicine in the Federation and amongst the Federation's allies. Furthermore, this Board recommends that he be incarcerated in a Federation reorientation center, with a sentence suitable for professional negligence of the scale he has committed. We also recommend that Starfleet strip Ethan Gamble of his rank, and dismiss him from the service with a dishonorable discharge."

Harris winced at the mention of dishonorable discharge. It was the last thing any self-respecting Starfleet officer ever wanted to hear, even if it was meted out to someone else.

Captain Grant Odell of the _Anubis_, who was Starfleet's representative on the Board of Inquiry, nodded his head. "The Medical Board's recommendation has been noted, and it will be forwarded to the appropriate authorities when a Starfleet court-martial can be convened."

"The Federation also notes the Medical Board's recommendation, and shall carry it out immediately," Undersecretary Lupei said. "The defendant, Ethan Gamble, is therefore sentenced to incarceration in the penal colony of Jaros II (1), to be held there until a Starfleet court-martial can rule on his fate, and to return there if the court wishes that it be so."

There were a few more words exchanged – more formalities, just like in the beginning – and the screen showing the Board of Inquiry blipped out, so that only the Starfleet Medical Board, the _Enterprise,_ and the _Excalibur_ were left holding the conference. There was, after all, still the matter of Doctor Sanders' transfer to the _Enterprise_ to deal with.

"Captain Harris," Doctor Hakim began, "have you received Captain Kirk's request for the transfer of Doctor Rebecca Sanders to the _Enterprise_?"

Harris nodded, relaxing slightly when he saw how Doctor Hakim, too, had relaxed a little. "I have, and I see no reason to refuse the transfer. Captain Kirk has recommended Doctor Isaiah Sandoval as a replacement for Doctor Sanders, whom I find eminently suitable. I'm also considering promoting Doctor Sandoval to Chief Medical Officer, in line with what has happened to Ethan Gamble."

"Hmmm, yes, that sounds appropriate," Doctor Hakim murmured, a small smile curling her lips just so. "Doctor Sandoval would make a good choice for Chief Medical Officer." There was a slight shift in her eyes as her gaze focused on the other screen, the one showing the _Enterprise's_ bridge. "What of you, Captain Kirk? Are Doctors Sandoval and Sanders amenable to this arrangement?"

Kirk nodded. "Doctor Sandoval is ready and waiting for orders to transfer. As for Doctor Sanders…" He glanced to the side, and Harris saw Sanders standing between Spock and a man whom he recognized as Doctor Leonard McCoy.

Doctor Sanders stepped forward from between the First Officer and the Chief Medical Officer, looking as if she had just been put on the spot. Harris wondered if she had even made a decision yet. He hoped she had made up her mind, because he didn't really feel like ordering her to stay on the _Enterprise_. As Captain, he knew he could do it, but he would much rather have the decision be her own, rather than something he forced on her.

She glanced, first at McCoy and Spock, and then at Kirk, before her shoulders seemed to shift as she sighed, and she replied, "I've decided to accept the transfer. It would be an honor to serve aboard the _Enterprise._"

Harris exhaled the breath he didn't know he'd been holding, and smiled as he watched Doctor Hakim nodded approvingly. "Well gentlemen, if everything is settled, I would like to put this issue to rest for now, and go home to my daughter. Good night from Earth, Captain Harris, Captain Kirk."

The screen showing Doctor Hakim went dark, leaving only Kirk and Harris in the conference. Harris nodded at the younger captain, and smiled wearily. "Looks like we can get on with our lives again, Kirk."

Kirk nodded, and though his face had fewer lines compared to Harris's face, it was clear to the older captain that his younger counterpart was just as relieved as he was that this was all over. "Honestly looking forward to that. Can't wait to get out of here."

Harris nodded in agreement. He could not wait to get out there again and start exploring. "Doctor Sanders, I will be waiting for you on the _Excalibur_ to finalize your transfer."

"Yes, sir," Sanders replied, her voice soft and tired. Well, that was no surprise, Harris thought. If anyone would be tired after all of this, it would most certainly have to be her. "We'll let you see to your business, Kirk, and we shall see to ours."

"Of course, Harris. Some other time then."

"Some other time – and hopefully under better circumstances. _Excalibur_ out."

As the images on their screen disappeared, Harris sighed heavily. While he was glad it was over, it had been an extremely trying situation for him, and he was tired. He stood up slowly from the command chair, gesturing to Zheng as he said, "You're in charge, Zheng. Inform me when Doctor Sanders arrives, but until then, I shall be in my quarters."

"Yes sir," was Zheng's murmured assent to his command, and she took her seat in the command chair just as he entered the turbolift and made his way to his own quarters.

My kingdom for a good three hours' worth of sleep, Harris thought, and chuckled to himself at the Shakespearian reference; he'd never really liked Shakespeare, but somehow the line was appropriate. He only hoped he had enough time to rest before Sanders came; the last thing he wanted to do was face her acting like a grumpy old man.

--+--

"You really are going to push through with this, aren't you?"

Rebecca nodded as she folded her comforter as small as she could, and put it in one of her less overstuffed suitcases. "I am. And not just because there are two captains who insist I do, and because Doctor Hakim herself approved."

Min Zheng approached, and sat down on the edge of her bed. "Then why?"

Rebecca paused in her packing, and looked at Zheng. The other woman had a resigned look on her face, so she wasn't trying to convince Rebecca to stay, but was trying to find out why Rebecca would want to leave the _Excalibur_ now that the cause of all her pain was gone.

"I'm not like you, Zheng," Rebecca murmured at last. "I can't stand to be around this ship – not for now, anyway. Everything about it reminds me of him, and I always have the feeling that if I turn around the next corner, he'll be there, waiting for me. I know he's already on his way to Jaros II, but even on the _Enterprise_ I was so afraid he'd come out of nowhere and come for me. I mean, they both look the same, so…"

"That's not what I meant," Zheng replied. "I don't expect you to be like me; we're two very different people, after all. What I want to know is this: why can't you trust this crew to take care of you, to keep you safe? Don't you trust us to stand by you? You've saved our lives often enough. The least we'd want to do is protect you, even now that he's gone."

Rebecca did not respond, touched by what Zheng had said. Zheng was not the most vocal of people, that much she knew, but she was also a very keen observer of people, and Rebecca knew that if Zheng said so, then it must be true.

"I'm sorry," Rebecca said at last. "I know everyone on the _Excalibur_ would do that for me, but I really can't stay here. I thought hard on this, and at first I thought I could manage staying here despite everything that's happened, but I can't." She spread her hands in a scattering gesture. "I need to pick up the pieces again, Zheng. I need time to put my life, myself, back together again, and I can't do that if I stay here."

Zheng did not say anything, merely looked at her, and for a while Rebecca wondered if Zheng could really understand what she meant. After all, whenever there was a crisis, Zheng was always right on top of it, as if she could handle any sort of major disaster, whether it was external from herself, or personal.

At last, Zheng nodded, and smiled – the first time Rebecca had ever seen her do so. "It's a pity, though," she remarked. "You made going to Medical Bay just a bit more tolerable because you were never grouchy. Impeccable bedside manner."

Rebecca couldn't help but laugh. "Doctor Sandoval, so I hear, is no grouch, and he likes to socialize with the crew." She wiggled her eyebrows. "I hear he plays a good game of backgammon."

Zheng's smile became cheekier. Rebecca knew she was an inveterate backgammon player in her spare time, playing games with the crew in her spare time, whether with those who knew how to play the game, or teaching it to those who didn't and were interested enough to challenge her. "Does he now? How did you know about this?"

"I spoke to him a while before coming here, and I saw him packing a set into his bags." Rebecca finished up packing, and straightened up to face Zheng. "I wish we'd had more time to talk."

Zheng shrugged as she, too, stood up. "So do I, but perhaps you and I could get together with some of the other crew when the _Excalibur_ and _Enterprise_ find themselves at the same place."

"I would like that very much." Smiling, Rebecca held her hand out to Zheng. "It was an honor to serve with you, Commander Zheng."

"And it was a pleasure serving with you, Doctor Sanders." Zheng shook her hand firmly, and with warmth. "Take care of yourself, and good luck."

"I wish you the same, Zheng. And thank you."

"You're welcome."

--+--

Kirk walked onto the bridge, feeling particularly upbeat. He'd just formally welcomed Rebecca onboard the _Enterprise,_ and was letting Bones show her around the Medical Bay – not that there would be much to show, because he knew Rebecca had spent a lot of time in there already, but it was really to introduce Rebecca to the rest of the doctors and nurses who worked in Medical, as well as allow her the chance to build her own team.

But that was something he could ask her about later, during the dinner he was hosting in his quarters: his own way of celebrating their reunion as family, as well as the chance to just be glad she was safe and sound. In the meantime, there were other things he wanted to do: namely, get out of this space station.

Sulu nodded at him as he entered. "Maneuvering thrusters and impulse engines at your command, sir."

"Weapons systems and shields on standby," Chekov reported from his station, his youthful face eager for the journey ahead.

Through the intercom, Scotty's brogue rang out loud and clear on the bridge, comforting in its enthusiasm. "Dilithium chamber at maximum efficiency."

The sweep of Uhura's hair as she swung her chair around to face Kirk was graceful and elegant. "Dock control reports ready for departure."

And finally, there was Spock from the science station: "All decks report ready for launch, Captain."

With a satisfied smile, Kirk sat down on the command chair. He was right where he belonged, he thought, right at home in this place, surrounded by people he knew he could trust. And while their unplanned shore leave had allowed them time to fix the _Enterprise _and renew their stores, now they were all raring to go and have more adventures.

"Sulu, proceed ahead at maximum warp," he ordered, and the helmsman quickly turned to his station to input the necessary data.

"Where to, sir?" Sulu asked, although from the knowing look on his face, it was apparent that he already knew what Kirk was going to say.

Kirk grinned, and waved his hand in the general direction of the great expanse of space that stretched out before them. "Out there, thataway."

To general chuckles of amusement from the bridge crew – save for Spock, of course – the _Enterprise's_ nacelles started to glow, and a few seconds later, the giant starship jumped into warp, leaving nothing but empty space where it had once been.

* * *

NOTES:

1 - This is a canonical planet used as a Federation penal colony, but it is mentioned only in _The Next Generation, _and only in one episode, at that. Its existence as a penal colony before the twenty-fourth century sounds reasonable to me, either way, so I have used it here instead of having to make up a planet to use.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

"It looks beautiful."

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and that doesn't look beautiful to me."

Kirk's grin was teasing. "C'mon Bones, what could be so bad about it? It looks downright idyllic, if you ask me."

McCoy snorted in derision. "See all that green on the surface? That can only mean one thing: jungle. And where there is jungle, there is inevitably disease – of the rotting, suppurating sort. The best ones are the ones that kill you in an hour's time, but the worst are the ones that leave you suffering in agony for days, even weeks, on end."

"Oh for crying out loud…"

"Don't believe me? Well, if it isn't disease, then it's poison, whether it's in the plants or in the animals or even in the native sentient species."

"There is no sentient life on the planet below us," Spock said from the science station. "All scans are negative of any indication of such."

"That just means if we get in trouble down there and Scotty can't beam us up, then we have no one but ourselves to rely on, since we can't count on anyone sharing their knowledge and saving us if one of us gets bitten by something big and poisonous."

McCoy and Kirk were currently debating the wisdom of going down onto the planet below them for exploratory purposes. They had been hopping around the galaxy, from system to system, planet to planet, with nothing really interesting happening to them. With the Treaty of Organia tying up both the Federation and the Klingons, they certainly couldn't expect any Klingon attacks anytime soon. So instead, the _Enterprise _had focused on discovering new worlds, and making first contact with new, alien species.

But that, so McCoy knew, meant an Away Team going down to a planet's surface, and in the past year he'd been in enough Away Parties to know that something _always_ went wrong while they were away from the _Enterprise._ He was certain this new planet, despite its beautiful, Earth-like appearance, would be no exception.

"Well, we haven't got much to do anyway, so we might as well go down there and take a look around. Spock, Bones, you're coming with me." Kirk strode to the command chair, accessing the intercom unit. "Ensign Ophelia Davies and Doctor Rebecca Sanders, please report to the Transporter Room. You are to participate in today's exploratory expedition to the planet's surface, so please come prepared."

McCoy gaped at Kirk. "Now hold on just a second here," he protested as the three of them got into the turbolift to make their way to their respective quarters, there to prepare for the expedition ahead. "Why are you taking Becky along?"

Kirk shrugged. "Thought it might be a good idea."

"A good idea? _A good idea?!_ That's a dangerous planet down there! We have no idea what we could be facing, no idea what could be waiting for us! And you're planning to bring _Becky_ with us?!"

"I do believe the Captain has the right idea in mind in choosing to bring Rebecca," Spock said, his tone even, quiet, and infuriatingly logical. "It is a tropical planet, as far as we can see, and if I am not mistaken Rebecca has some expertise and interest in tropical disease. Her knowledge might become useful if we do encounter any of the problems you have predicted we will encounter."

"Mr. Spock is correct," Kirk agreed, "and it's not as if she's never gone on Away Missions before. Her records indicate she's done so often enough, again whenever the _Excalibur_ happened to be exploring a tropical planet. I don't see any reason to change that now."

"But-"

Kirk leveled another look at him, the one he used whenever he thought McCoy was being completely unreasonable. "She'll be _okay,_ Bones. I know she's been through a rough time, but that was almost a month ago. It's not right to treat her like she's made of glass. I know Becky. As long as it doesn't have anything to do with the asshole, she'll be fine."

McCoy stayed silent, resisting the urge to snap back with an "And I don't know her?" as a reaction to Kirk's statement. Kirk did have a point, a point which Spock backed up: that planet down there was the perfect place for Rebecca to be, since she did research into tropical diseases, just like her father, and hence anyplace with tropical conditions would be of particular interest to her. And indeed, if they got in trouble, she was in the best position to help them in case they couldn't get back to the _Enterprise_.

Despite all the logic in bringing her along, though, McCoy still didn't like the idea – and mostly because he felt that it put her in unnecessary danger. One part of his concern was professional: she was their primary trauma surgeon, and they would need her in excellent working condition if they got in trouble, since she was quite possibly the only other one in the Medical Bay, aside from McCoy himself, who could handle the stress and tough conditions of dealing with massive trauma injuries. But the other part was entirely personal: McCoy just didn't want her to get hurt.

It was something that McCoy, over the course of the past couple of weeks, had come to accept, albeit grudgingly. He felt extremely protective of Rebecca, obviously a lot more so than Kirk, and he would do absolutely anything to keep her out of harm's way. He had also come to grudgingly admit that his "crush" on her was more than that, especially since he had become increasingly attracted to her since they now worked in close quarters with one another. He kept it strictly professional for the most part, of course, but when the Medical Bay was quiet and she was simply conducting experiments or looking through research documents, he liked to pull a chair up next to her, or sit on one of the unoccupied tables, and the two of them would just talk. More often than not it was about the research she was doing, but sometimes it slid into more personal things: family, old friends and old times at the Academy, the crew of the _Enterprise._

Never once, though, had McCoy broached the topic of romantic interest with Rebecca. He felt it just wasn't the right time: for one, it was too soon after the whole mess with Ethan Gamble, and for another, he didn't think he was ready to go into a serious romantic relationship – after all, one didn't get involved with a girl like Rebecca Sanders unless one was serious about it. So he limited himself to a little bit of flirting now and again, but nothing more than that, and whenever he sensed that Rebecca was feeling uncomfortable, he'd stop right there and then and back off.

The turbolift door slid open, and they stepped out into the armory just off the main Transporter Room, where they found Ensign Davies and Rebecca each strapping a phaser to their belts. However, whereas Ensign Davies seemed to be carrying the standard equipment necessary for Away Missions, Rebecca also carried a medikit, a medical tricorder in its standard pouch, plus another medium-sized bag that was slung across her body and rested comfortably against her hip.

"What's in that pouch?" he asked, rather curious, since although it didn't seem cumbersome or heavy, he felt that it might get in the way if they had to escape something or someone of an unsavory nature.

Rebecca smiled as she patted the bag. "Sample containers. I'm still a researcher, after all, so I'd like to see what sorts of plants or animals I can find down there."

"What if it's too big to fit in a sample container?" Ensign Davies asked, to which Rebecca replied, "Then Scotty will beam it up for me."

"I am _not_ taking any strange non-sentient alien creatures on my ship," Kirk declared as he fitted a phaser belt around his waist.

"It was just a _joke,_ Jim. And besides, even if you did let me beam a creature onto the _Enterprise_, where would I keep it?"

"You're a _Kirk _– well, half a Kirk, anyway_._ You'd figure something out."

"Does that constitute permission?"

"No."

"Damn. Guess I'll have to get rid of that twelve-armed, three-eyed cephalopod-type I've been keeping in the water tanks."

Even McCoy couldn't keep himself from chuckling along with Ensign Davies when he saw the look of horror on Kirk's face. "You did not-"

"Of course not," Rebecca replied, her tone sober, though mischief danced in her eyes. "Would I go against a direct order from my captain?"

Kirk's eyes narrowed at her as they entered the Transporter Room and took their places on the transporter pad. "Sometimes I wonder…"

"All right then," Scotty said from his position at the transporter console, "if everyone's ready to go, I'll be beaming you down onto a nice, wide stretch of beach that's walking distance from an estuary leading into the jungle. Shouldn't give the lot of you too much trouble finding your way around if you use the river as a landmark."

"Duly noted, Mr. Scott. We'll keep your advice in mind." Kirk paused, glanced around, and then ordered, "Energize."

Brilliant points of light swirled around McCoy, and for a split-second, he got the oddest feeling that he was dissolving, but the sensation was brief, because seconds later he materialized on a sandy beach, his gaze focused not on the wall of the Transporter Room, but a vast, blue ocean. They had arrived.

Almost immediately, tricorders were up and running, with Spock going first while the rest of them took a look at where they were.

"It seems our initial analyses from the _Enterprise_ were correct," the Vulcan said, his gaze moving quickly over the data presented on the screen. "The conditions on this planet distinguish it as an M-class planet (1), despite a somewhat denser and more oxygen-rich atmosphere than Earth."

"Which means we'll be safe here a while without having to worry about choking to death," Kirk said, sounding distinctly pleased.

"As long as we don't blow ourselves up first," McCoy muttered. While it was a good thing that the atmosphere was rich in oxygen, it was also a problem, because oxygen tended to ignite very easily. One wrong shot with a phaser, or one fire left untended, and they could wind up hurting themselves. He stared at the trees with a suspicious eye, knowing that the potential for a devastating forest fire had just gone up several notches in his "Big Trouble, Big Problems" scale.

"We won't start a fire. You know that, right?"

McCoy glanced at the speaker, and smiled wryly at Rebecca, who had come to stand beside him. "You don't know your cousin, then."

"Oh, I do know him. But I can also assure that I'm going to try to keep him in control as much as possible."

"It's not really your cousin that's the problem: it's just that he seems to attract trouble."

Rebecca laughed, and shrugged. "Worry about him, then. I know how to stay out of trouble."

I'm more worried about you, McCoy thought, but did not say that out loud and instead kept his peace as Rebecca went to join Kirk and Spock in their little conference about where to go next, while McCoy watched Ensign Davies approach the water's edge, tricorder in hand to scan it.

"It doesn't seem any different from normal seawater," she remarked quietly, and after she had put away her tricorder, she dipped her right hand in, swirling the water and splashing it around.

And then yelped, throwing herself away from the water's edge, her right hand clutched in her left.

"What happened?" McCoy demanded as he went to Davies's side, sweeping the handheld scanner of his medical tricorder over her body, trying to pinpoint anything that could have gone wrong. He sensed the others crowding around them, but he ignored them.

"Something stung me," Davies replied, her rapid heart-rate and breathing indicating just how frightened she was. "I was just testing the water and something stung me."

"Did you see what it was?" Rebecca asked, her voice low and level. When Davies shook her head, Rebecca went to the water, dropping her bag down beside her and pulling on a pair of odd-looking gloves before plunging her hands into the water.

McCoy's eyes widened at that. "What the hell are you doing?! Becky, whatever's stung the ensign is still in the water!"

"Exactly. We need to know what it is if we're going to figure out what it- Gotcha!" She lifted her hands out of the water holding… McCoy didn't even know _what_ to call it, except that it looked like a very, very ugly cross between a crab and a scorpion. It was pretty big, around the size of a breakfast plate, with a shell the same color as the sand, and massive ivory-colored claws.

Kirk wrinkled his nose. "Looks more disgusting than the crabs we used to pull out of the mangroves when we were kids," he muttered.

"I don't recall you complaining when we'd eat them," Rebecca threw back, letting Spock run his tricorder over the thing, keeping a good grip on the tail so that it didn't sting the Vulcan.

McCoy raised an eyebrow at the both of them. "Mangroves?"

"Long story," Kirk replied, and he turned to Spock, who was done scanning the creature. "What've you got?"

"I am not quite certain," Spock replied, and McCoy noted the hint of confusion on the Vulcan's face. "It is alien, certainly, but the tricorder reads it as being a cross between a Terran seagoing crab and a species of Vulcan scorpion."

"That's impossible," McCoy stated, and he knew he ought to know. While Vulcans and Humans were genetically similar in many ways, the same could not be said of the native animals that belonged to each species' home planet. And anyone who'd passed elementary school science on Earth knew that scorpions and crabs could never produce offspring together, no matter how similar they looked.

Unless, of course, someone had been messing around with genetic engineering when they weren't supposed to.

"Will I be okay?" Davies asked, her voice high-pitched from fear. "I'm not going to die, am I?"

Kirk grinned, easy and reassuring, and patted Davies on the shoulder. "Don't worry Ensign, you should be okay. If something happens we'll have you and Doctor McCoy beamed back to the _Enterprise_ for treatment." He paused, then gave her a level look. "Can you still go on?"

Davies glanced at McCoy, and he checked his tricorder readings before giving a nod. "Body systems read normal. But I'm treating this like I would a scorpion venom case, which means symptoms might not be visible for a while. I'm giving it four to five hours; if nothing happens within that span of time, she should be okay."

"Okay. Let's get going then." Kirk turned to the right. "Scotty said there's an estuary nearby that leads up a river into the jungle. We should start there so we don't get lost."

--+--

"What's this about crabs and mangroves?"

Kirk glanced back at McCoy, taking the time to make sure he was putting his foot down on a stable spot before answering, "When we were kids, I used to spend summer vacation with Becky and her dad in the Philippines. They have this gorgeous old house on an island to the southwest of the country, which is half-residence, half-nature preserve. While Uncle Daniel was doing research, we were allowed to run around and do whatever we wanted. As for the crabs, they were Becky's thing, I just tagged along. We'd go into the mangroves at low tide with a bucket and just root around for crabs. We'd take them back with us and then her grandmother would cook them for dinner."

"I thought you said the two of you spent most of your childhood beating each other up."

"We did. This was after my mother remarried." Kirk smiled wryly at McCoy's look. "I took every chance I could to get away from my stepdad. Aunt Jackie and Becky were only too happy to do that. It was only for the summer, but damn, I loved those summers I was away from him."

McCoy was quiet a while, saying nothing as they negotiated some slippery rocks. They had been following the river upstream, the muddy estuary banks gradually giving way to pebble-covered ground, littered with a few boulders here and there. All around them the jungle was alive with noise, but so far they had seen no birds – something unusual, since Kirk remembered that there had always been birds flying around back in the little patch of rainforest that belonged to Rebecca's paternal grandmother.

"What happened with you and your stepfather anyway?" McCoy asked as they reached level ground, and didn't have to worry about slipping and falling if they made a misstep during their conversation.

Kirk shrugged. "We didn't get along. He tried to erase my father completely. I guess he was doing it for Mom's sake, but I didn't like it at all. I was proud to be a Kirk. I didn't want that to change, even if _he_ wanted it to." He glanced at McCoy, remembering something from when Rebecca had first come onto the _Enterprise._ "Y'know, you owe me a story too."

"What story?"

"What's up with you and the whole abuse thing? I remember you didn't want to take down Becky's testimony because of that."

"For crying out loud, Jim-"

"Hey, I just spilled my guts to you about my stepdad. Only fair." He tilted his head, giving his friend a serious look. "Was it your ex-wife?"

"No," McCoy replied, shaking his head emphatically. "She was a harpy and a harridan and a slattern, but… No, it wasn't her."

"Then…what?"

"Do we really have to do this now?"

"Why not now?" Kirk paused. "Was it you? I mean, as a kid were you-"

"_No,_ Jim. I had great parents growing up."

"Then _what_?" Kirk stopped, and gave his Chief Medical Officer a long, probing look. "Just spit it out already Leonard."

McCoy stood there a while, shifting his weight from one foot to another, but just as he opened his mouth to say something, a loud shriek startled the both of them enough that they both reached for their phasers and pointed them in the general direction of the shriek.

What they saw were Spock and Rebecca, both of whom were pointing their phasers into the jungle – but Ensign Davies was not with them.

"What happened?" Kirk demanded as he and McCoy approached, his phaser at the ready in case something else came after them.

It was Spock who responded. "Ensign Davies was walking behind Rebecca and I when she screamed. We both turned, but she was gone. Neither of us had the time to see what took her."

"So something just snuck up behind you and you didn't hear a thing?" Kirk focused a look on Spock, knowing that the Vulcan had superior hearing, and if Rebecca didn't hear anything, then likely Spock did.

But his First Officer merely shook his head. "I heard nothing."

Kirk swore, and took out his communicator. "Kirk to _Enterprise._ We got a situation down here. Are you still getting Ensign Davies' vital signs?"

"Still getting them," Scotty replied; as the next senior officer with Kirk, Spock, and McCoy on the Away Team, he had the duty of commanding the _Enterprise._

"Can you track her?"

There was a pause, and Scotty's response was less than encouraging. "I'm afraid we can't do that. Something's blocking the tracking signal from her communicator, and if she's disappeared into the jungle, then visual's not going to be any help. Trees are just too dense."

"Try to figure out what's blocking the tracking signal, and if possible eliminate it. As soon as you get a fix on her report back to me immediately."

"Aye, aye, Captain. Shall you be beaming up now?"

Kirk did not respond right away. Instead, he fixed his gaze on the jungle before him: a vast, green wall, and looking practically impenetrable. Then he glanced at his companions, who were looking back at him with apprehension and anticipation, awaiting his orders.

"Captain?" Scotty's brogue became more pronounced. "Your orders?"

Kirk closed his eyes briefly, then opened them. He was always quick to make up his mind, but he was even quicker to make decisions when the lives of his crew were at stake. "No, Mr. Scott, we won't be beaming up. We're going to look for Ensign Davies. Keep us posted on her vital signs though; I want to know if we've lost her before we've found her."

"… Aye, aye, Captain."

"Good. Kirk out." He flipped his communicator closed, and looked at the three other remaining members of the landing party. "We're going after Ensign Davies. This has just become a very dangerous situation, so we can't afford to make any mistakes." He focused on Spock. "Mr. Spock, can you give me a location as to where Ensign Davies disappeared?"

"Certainly, Captain." Spock walked him to a particular spot on the edge of the jungle. "This was where she disappeared, as best as I can approximate her distance behind myself and Rebecca."

"Looks like a game trail, like the kind animals use to get to water," McCoy remarked. "Maybe whatever took Ensign Davies mistook her for prey?"

Kirk grinned at McCoy. "Only one way to find out, right?" And with that, he set his phaser to stun, and ducked into the vegetation, intending to find his crewmember and bring her back alive – if whatever had taken her hadn't killed her, first.

--+--

He frowned as he watched the four Starfleet officers duck into the jungle. This was wrong, he thought. Who were they to think they could go after one of his masterpieces? This land was not for them, after all. It was never meant to be for them. It was meant for him, alone, and those whom he chose to welcome.

They were most assuredly _not_ welcome.

But he shrugged, and turned away from the monitor to focus on another portion of his glorious world. They had been warned, but they did not heed that warning. They would learn their lesson, and the price for it would be their lives.

Now all he had to do was wait, and watch.

* * *

NOTES:

1 - These are planets whose characteristics are remarkably similar to Earth's. Such planets usually have plenty of water, an atmosphere breathable for most humanoids, and plenty of vegetation and animal-life. Such planets also usually harbor native sentient life, usually humanoid, but not necessarily. In the context of _Star Trek,_ uninhabited planets of this class that are not claimed by other alien races are usually considered part of the Federation if they are discovered by Federation starships such as the _Enterprise, _who would report the planet's existence and location to the Federation so that a more formal exploratory party may come, thus beginning colonization efforts if such is possible.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

"What I wouldn't give for a sharp machete," Rebecca grumbled as she wriggled her way underneath a particularly thick patch of undergrowth, preferring not to push her way through it and simply take the path of least resistance. She also chose to ignore that it was the most ungraceful path.

Well, at least Leonard's taking point, she thought, glad that she didn't have to forge her way through for the rest of their group. Besides, she wasn't good at reading game tracks, or looking for such signs in the forest. When she was out in the jungle, she usually relied on things like rivers or streams to help her keep track of where she was going, or she followed her father, who seemed to have the uncanny ability not to get lost even in the thickest forests.

She paused, and looked back over her shoulder, watching as Spock chose to walk through the bush, whereas she had to go under it. It made much more sense with him, because he was taller and could easily walk through, whereas she, as the smallest one in their group, either had to look for ways around or under things – like a terrier, she thought, and snorted in amusement at the idea.

"Did you find something amusing?" Spock asked as he brushed off leaves from his uniform and started walking again, this time alongside her.

Rebecca smiled. "I did, but it was just something in my head. It's nothing to do with you."

"Indeed. And what thought did you find amusing?"

"I just happened to notice that you can manage to walk through most of this thick vegetation with relative ease because you're taller than I am, while I have to go around or under obstacles. So I had this image of myself as a kind of terrier, and I thought it was kind of funny." She shrugged, and gestured to her uniform, which was far dirtier than Spock's, since she had been crawling on the ground. "I certainly _feel_ like one, at any rate."

Spock nodded. "Terrier-type canines are indeed small, so I suppose the comparison is apt. But just as their size is an advantage to them, given that they were meant to chase small prey through thick vegetation and into burrows, so are those traits your advantage in our current predicament."

Rebecca couldn't help but laugh at that. "I'm not _that_ small, but I guess you're right. Thanks for the compliment." Well, she thought, it _was_ one, even if it was a little backhanded. Then again, he was just telling the truth; compared to most of the other women on the _Enterprise,_ she was likely the smallest one at five-foot-five.

Just then they both had to duck under several liana-like structures that dangled off the tree branches, and she sighed. "I just wish we had a machete. It would make going through so much easier."

Spock nodded in agreement, but after a while, he turned to her, and said, "Perhaps it would be easier for you if I went ahead to clear the path. At the very least, you will not have to crawl in certain areas."

Rebecca smiled, considering the offer. It was kind of him to ask her, but she knew it would only slow their progress if he tried to clear the path for her, instead of her just making her way as best as she could. "Thank you, but it's not necessary. It'll take too much time, and we don't have that, not right now."

"Agreed."

They walked in silence for a while; thankfully they had reached an area of the jungle where the vegetation was relatively thinner, and they could get around with more ease. Up ahead, Kirk and McCoy were still following the game trail the latter had spotted earlier by the river; apparently it ran deeper and farther than any of them expected.

Better something than nothing, Rebecca thought, as she followed Spock, who had just increased his walking speed to get to where the Captain and the Chief Medical Officer were. And when they got close enough, Rebecca could hear McCoy complaining about how they had been following the game trail for ages but had gotten nothing.

"It's the best thing we have for now," Kirk replied patiently. "I don't think we could navigate through this forest without that trail to follow." He glanced at Rebecca then, and grinned. "Well, _someone's_ been up close and personal with the vegetation."

Rebecca punched him on the arm for that, and he responded in kind.

"Will the two of you stop that?" McCoy snapped irritably. "I'm a doctor, not a nanny."

Kirk nodded, but not before swiping at a smear of mud on Rebecca's cheek in an attempt to wipe it off. "Right now you're a doctor _and_ our navigator, so: have we got any other alternative besides this game trail? I don't think so."

"True," McCoy sighed in agreement. "I've got sense enough not to get turned around too much in Georgia woodland, but this jungle is a whole different problem."

"Because it's a monster that eats everything up," Rebecca and Kirk chorused, and they exchanged a grin, while McCoy and Spock stared at them.

At length, Spock asked, "And why do you consider the jungle a monster that consumes everything?"

Kirk shrugged. "Just something Uncle Daniel used to tell us all the time. Said you needed to have proper respect for the Green Monster, because if you didn't it'd eat you whole, just like it ate up the Khmer and the Maya and the Olmec."

"He used to scare us all the time with stories like that," Rebecca said, smiling at the memory in spite of the fact that the trail had gotten rougher again, and they were forced to struggle through the brush. "And then Jim and I grew up, and we realized he was just referencing history."

"Didn't stop us from agreeing with him, though."

"True."

"Jim, Rebecca, I suggest that you maintain silence," Spock said. "Something is approaching."

Rebecca immediately closed her mouth, and paid attention. And then she heard it: a soft snuffling sound, followed by a low, menacing growl.

Whatever it was, it did _not_ sound friendly.

"Do not make a sound," McCoy whispered, "and keep very, very still."

None of them needed to be told twice, especially when a very large, very ugly creature that none of them had seen before – certainly not something Rebecca had seen in her Exobiology classes.

The creature continued snuffling, walking through the jungle with remarkable ease despite its bulk (or perhaps precisely because of its bulk), and came within nearly three feet of where they were. Rebecca held her breath, hoping that the creature wouldn't hear them, just in case it had hearing sensitive enough for that. She watched it carefully, not moving a muscle, praying as hard as she could that it would pass them by – and not pass _through_ them.

Somehow, somewhere, there was a God, because her prayers were answered, and the enormous creature shifted its bulk away from them, and headed deeper into the forest, cutting a wide swathe of trampled vegetation behind it.

They all stood up slowly, quietly, not certain just how sharp the thing's hearing was, but when it didn't turn around and charge at them, they all sighed quietly in relief – except Spock, who only relaxed his shoulders slightly, but uttered not a sound.

"_That,_" Kirk said, "was _not_ normal."

"If I didn't know any better I'd say that it was a cross between a drayjin and an Andorian bull (1)," McCoy muttered, his eyes narrowed in the direction of where the creature had gone. "It had the horns of the Andorian bull, but the build and the face are all like those of a drayjin."

Kirk narrowed his eyes as he looked around them. "Something doesn't seem right here," he muttered. "I'm no exobiologist, but somehow every animal we've encountered so far is just completely _wrong._"

McCoy nodded thoughtfully. "And you can't get those combinations of animals unless you've done some serious meddling of the genetic sort. Which means a lab. Which means-"

"People," Rebecca finished darkly. "Or person. With a lot of patience, a lot of time, and the right equipment, one person could run a genetic engineering lab fairly easily."

"The question, though, is _who _would want to do this sort of thing," Kirk added, frowning as he tried to put the puzzle pieces together. "You think the Klingons could pull something like this off?"

"Doesn't make sense," McCoy replied with a shake of the head. "If they were playing around with genetics, they'd apply them towards making a bio-weapon of some sort. They wouldn't waste their time playing Doctor Frankenstein."

"Maybe the person we're dealing with is Human," Rebecca suggested. "It seems about right, but I can't imagine who would try to do something like this."

"I think I can," Spock said then, and they all turned to look as he reached for his communicator. "Spock to _Enterprise_. Mr. Sulu, I would like you to pull up the coordinates of this planet, and cross-check it against a list of lost scientific expeditions. See if the coordinates match or are close to the last known coordinates of any of the lost expeditions."

"Yes, sir."

While they were waiting for Sulu to find the information Spock had requested, Kirk asked, "What are you thinking, Spock?"

"Listening to the speculations you, Bones and Rebecca were discussing, it occurred to me that perhaps such speculation might not be entirely illogical. Connecting the threads of your reasoning has allowed me to put together a hypothesis which, though tenuous by my estimations, may just prove to be more than mere speculation."

"Which is just a fancy way of saying you have a hunch," McCoy stated blandly, and Rebecca chuckled at that, since the look Spock gave the doctor indicated that he didn't like what he was doing simply being called a "hunch," and she speculated it was because of the implications of non-logical thought processes connected to the word.

Any further ribbing was cut short when Sulu's voice came through Spock's communicator: "I checked the coordinates against the records, and only one stands out: the _USS Al-Rashid,_ a _Ptolemy-_class transporter (2) which was supposed to go to the planet Varkaleth in Theta Librae (3), but en-route to their destination she stopped reporting back to Starfleet, despite repeated attempts to contact her. Her last confirmed location was within this area."

"Please check the crew manifests, and focus on any geneticists they may have had onboard."

"Let's see here… Okay, there were only three people who listed genetics as their specialty: Doctor Sheila Rossi, Doctor Colin Cabral, and a Vulcan named Sarn."

"Colin Cabral?" McCoy asked slowly, then rubbed his face with both his hands. "Well, _that_ explains everything."

"I take it you know who he is," Spock stated, closing his communicator and returning it to the case at his waist.

"Colin Cabral's one of the most brilliant genetic engineers in Starfleet," McCoy explained. "He was an instructor on the subject at Starfleet, and his students are considered up-and-coming stars in the field today. Around 2240 he announced that he was leaving Starfleet and that he was going on an expedition to Varkaleth, then only newly discovered. We figured he was lost, along with the _Al Rashid._"

"I've heard of him," Rebecca murmured. "He was the one who suggested that transgenesis (4) should be explored more frequently on a larger scale, like crossing genes between animals from other planets with Terran animals so as to produce unique hybrids where such a thing would normally be impossible. He said it would help boost productivity and survival rates on Federation colonies."

"Exactly," McCoy replied, nodding grimly. "But what they don't mention in the press releases is that Cabral was crazy: he had aspirations to become a god, to create an Eden of his own where only things he created would live."

"And this could be it," Kirk concluded, gesturing to the jungle around them. "If that's the case, then where's the crew of the _Al Rashid_? Even if he commandeered the ship he couldn't have gotten here on his own. The _Ptolemy-_class ships would require some sort of crew to fly it."

"I can answer that, if you'd like."

Rebecca whirled around, but before she could react, she briefly heard the high-pitched chirp of a phaser, and then felt something collide straight into her chest, knocking the wind out of her and slamming her against a tree trunk. The double impact made stars burst across her field of vision, before everything went black.

She came to slowly, and in the midst of a massive headache. Phaser set to stun, she thought, realizing what had hit her. She'd been hit by a phaser blast on such a setting before, during one Away Mission on her first month on the _Excalibur, _and the experience didn't make this one any better.

"Are you conscious now?"

Rebecca opened her eyes slowly to a dim, featureless room, the quiet hum of a force field telling her that she was in a holding cell in some ship. But what ship, she wondered. Certainly not the _Enterprise_.

Warm fingers touched her lightly on the arm, and she all but threw herself across the room in surprise. "Who are you? Where am I?" she demanded, trying to get her eyes to focus as quickly as possible to the limited lighting conditions.

"I am Sarn, a geneticist. You are on what remains of the _USS Al Rashid._" It was a masculine voice, and the cadence and rhythm in the words was vaguely familiar. Rebecca's eyes adjusted to the dark, and she saw a slim-figured humanoid kneeling by the spot where she had been lying. The dark hair, pointed ears, and slanting eyebrows all told her that this male was a Vulcan.

Sarn stood up, but did not approach her. "Who are you?"

Rebecca saw no point in lying at this stage. "Doctor Rebecca Sanders, of the _USS Enterprise._"

Sarn nodded thoughtfully. "The _USS Enterprise._ I see. A _Constitution_-class ship, being built at the Riverside Shipyards in Iowa, the United States of America, Earth. But that was several years ago."

"What are you doing here?" Rebecca asked then, her wits coming back to her more quickly now that she had something to focus on. "What happened to the _Al Rashid_?"

"Doctor Cabral hijacked the ship while we were on our way to Varkaleth," Sarn explained as he sat down on the bed built into the wall on one side of the cell. "He held us under threat of a biological weapon, which he said he would unleash unless Captain Kitani stopped contacting Starfleet, and instead, proceeded where Doctor Cabral ordered her to go. His threat was real enough, and so it was logical that we obey his orders, in hopes that we would be able to fight back when we were someplace else."

Rebecca stood up slowly, testing her balance, and was glad to note that the sensation of vertigo was gradually starting to disappear. She glanced out, and noticed that the other cells were empty. "Where's the rest of the crew? Are they prisoners here, like you? And what about my companions?"

"The crew was gone long ago. Your companions will soon meet the same fate."

"Gone? What do you mean, gone? Are they dead?"

"No. They are alive."

"Then where are they?"

Sarn's gaze was level, and Rebecca felt a shiver travel up and down her spine at the complete and utter lack of emotion in them. "They are in the Medical Bay. It is my logical assumption that Doctor Cabral is currently altering their genetic structure, though my assumption does not extend to what sort of alteration he is performing to them."

Rebecca froze, the straightforward explanation of what was going to happen to Jim, Bones and Spock suddenly overwhelming her other thoughts. "He's going to _experiment_ on them? Is that what he did to the rest of the crew?"

Sarn nodded. "Yes. The only reason he has spared me so far is because the Vulcan genome, while similar enough to Humans to allow procreation, is complex enough that it has taken him time to decipher it. Although the information is readily available, we have been cut off from the rest of the Federation for a very long time, and much of the data in the _Al Rashid's_ computers has been destroyed. It was only recently that he started experimenting with Humans, since it was only recently that he was able to reconstruct the Human genome."

That meant Spock was still around here, somewhere. If he was around, then maybe they stood a chance at getting out somehow. "Spock!" she yelled down the hallway, knowing that although she couldn't get past the force field that blocked the wide entrance of the cell, she could still certainly get her voice through. "Spock! You there?"

And then, finally, a faint voice responded from what seemed like the very end of the hall: "I am here, Rebecca. Are you injured?"

"No, I'm fine! What about you?"

"I have only recently recovered consciousness. Please wait a moment, I shall need some time to comprehend the circuitry of this force field, and then disable it."

Rebecca stepped back from the force field, and turned to Sarn. "We'll get out of here soon enough. I'm sure Jim would be glad to offer you sanctuary aboard the _Enterprise_ until we can find a way to get you to New Vulcan."

Sarn tilted his head. "New Vulcan? There is no such thing. There is only Vulcan."

And then Rebecca remembered, quite abruptly, that Sarn could not have heard about the destruction of Vulcan, which had happened only two years ago. All of a sudden, she found herself in an incredibly awkward position: how was she going to explain to Sarn that his home planet was destroyed?

Fortunately, she was spared having to explain anything by the sound of the force field coming down, and when she looked, she saw that Spock had managed to get out of his cell, and had just disabled the force field in front of her and Sarn's cell.

As soon as the force field was down he approached her, and gave her what looked like the belt she had brought with her, to which were strapped her phaser, communicator, and medikit, as well as the pouch with her medical tricorder in it. The only thing he didn't bring her was the other pouch, the one with her sample containers. She wanted to ask him about it, but then she was distracted by his hands: they looked scorched – and then she remembered that he'd had to rewire the force fields for his cell in order to get out.

"Give me your hands," she said, to which Spock frowned at her, obviously reluctant to do so. So in response, she gave him the look she used on all her recalcitrant patients: the one that said, "If you don't let me do this now, you're going to regret it later."

"I'm just going to put some burn ointment on your hands," she said, indicating his singed fingertips. "If I don't do it now, they might get infected later, and you and I both know Bones will give us hell for it if that happens."

He stared at her for a while, perhaps weighing her argument, but after a while, he nodded. "Your argument is correct," he muttered, and stretched his hands out to her, palms up.

Rebecca didn't need to do a tricorder scan anymore to figure out what was wrong, so she reached for her medikit, and took out two tubes: one was a disinfectant, while the other was a burn ointment that would protect the burns from further infection, as well as soothe the pain. She sprayed the disinfectant on her hands, and then onto Spock's burns. Once assured that everything was clean, she carefully applied two drops each to his hands, and carefully rubbed the ointment into the burns.

"There," she said, satisfied. She glanced at Sarn then. "Sarn, this is Commander Spock, First Officer of the _Enterprise._ Spock, this is Sarn, one of the geneticists of the _Al Rashid._"

The Vulcans considered each other from across the cell, but neither moved or said anything to greet the other. Rebecca watched them, and wondered at the silence. She had seen Vulcans interacting with each other before, and this was unusual, even for a normally distant race.

At length, Sarn closed his eyes, and leaned back so that his head rested against the wall behind him. That must have been some sort of signal, because immediately after Spock turned to her, and said, "Rebecca, we must leave him here for now. We may come back for him later, when we are less distracted."

"Less distracted?" She glanced back at Sarn even as Spock took her arm and started pulling her out into the hall and towards the exit. "Spock, I don't think he looks too well."

"I can assure you, he does not need your assistance right now. He will be able to ease his condition quite well on his own."

"What condition?" Rebecca yanked her arm from Spock's grasp, causing them both to halt in their progress to the exit from the brig. "Spock, if Sarn has some sort of medical problem, then as a doctor I'm duty-bound to-"

Spock rounded on her, his face still as that of a marble statue's in the dim light. The only indication that there was any emotion behind that mask were his eyes, and even those were cool and icy. "I am under no obligation to explain this to you, Doctor, as it is a very private topic amongst Vulcans and hence I am in no position to mention anything about it." He paused. "Do I make myself clear, Lieutenant (5)?"

But in the span of time it took him to explain his stand, Rebecca felt her temper kindle – and it amazed her, because she thought she had lost her temper to Gamble long ago. Encouraged at rediscovering this, she narrowed her eyes and drew herself up to her full height – not that it compared to Spock's, but it didn't really matter. "With all due respect, _Commander,_ my obligation as a doctor takes first priority in this case. I swore an oath when I became a doctor, and I have to honor that oath. If there is a patient who needs care, then I must see to them as best as my abilities will allow."

"But according to Starfleet Regulation your oath can be subsumed by a direct order from a superior officer, and in this instance I am your superior officer. As such, I order you to leave Sarn behind, and to join me in rescuing the Captain and the Chief Medical Officer."

Rebecca stood there, gaping at Spock. How could be he so cold?

But the Vulcan merely turned away and started down the hallway again, expecting her to follow him – knowing, rightly, that she would have no choice. After all, he had given her a direct order, and as her superior officer in McCoy's absence, she could not question his authority, and hence had to follow him.

In the end, all Rebecca could do was scowl at his back, and catch up to him before he disappeared into the turbolift at the end of the hall.

* * *

NOTES:

1 - The drayjin is a very big pig-like creature from the rogue planet Dakala, and was featured in the _Star Trek: Enterprise_ episode "Rogue Planet." The Andorian bull, on the other hand, is a creature native to the ice-moon Andoria, capital world of the Andorian Empire and of the Andorian and Aenar races, the former being one of the founding members of the Federation. It was used in a simile by Keiko O'Brien from _Deep Space 9_ in reference to her husband Miles. Though the first reference to the Andorian bull comes almost a century after the original series (and hence this alternate universe) was set, it doesn't seem too far-fetched to assume that most people belonging to the Federation would know what an Andorian bull is.

2 - Another actual starship class and starship name, drawn once again from the _Star Trek Technical Manual._ _Ptolemy_-class ships were supposed to serve as tugs and transporters in Starfleet, and I speculate they could have been used for exploratory and colonization missions to planets with no known threats on them or in the immediate area around the star system.

3 - Varkaleth is a fictional planet, and so is the star system it belongs to, though I have used typical star-naming conventions in naming and locating the star.

4 - Transgenesis is the insertion of genes from an unrelated organism into another unrelated organism, thus forcing that organism to exhibit the traits from the other organism. This chapter already shows two examples: a Terran crab-Vulcan scorpion hybrid, and a drayjin-Andorian bull hybrid – completely unrelated species, but showcasing traits from both.

5 - Rank tended to be a bit vague when it came to doctors and nurses in Starfleet, but as a rule, it seems that nurses were at least lieutenant junior grade, at most full lieutenants; doctors were at least lieutenants, at most commanders. McCoy is likely ranked at lieutenant commander, since the office of Chief Medical Officer is a senior-staff level position and hence can only be filled by someone of lieutenant commander rank or better. Rebecca is here given the rank of lieutenant because although she is the _Enterprise's_ chief trauma surgeon and hence has the right to the title, she has neither the experience nor the qualifications to have earned the higher title of lieutenant commander, and hence ranks lower on the ladder than Spock, who, as commander, can issue orders she cannot disobey.

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

Again, I would like to thank everyone who's been reading this story so far. I hope I have yet to disappoint you all. As for those who do not comment, but who enjoy adding me to their favorites or alerts, please, feel free to speak up and say something about the story, even if it's to point out something I may have gotten wrong. Just adding my story to your favorites, or putting me on your author alert, tells me absolutely nothing about what I'm doing right, or even what I'm doing wrong. So please, leave a review! They are always much appreciated.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

Kirk groaned as he slowly came to, feeling like the time when he and that Gorn captain had had a showdown on Cestus III. Well, technically it was the fault of the Metrons, but still (1)…

"So you're more resilient than I thought."

Kirk tried to sit up, but realized that he was strapped down to the main biobed of what appeared to be a dilapidated Medical Bay. It took a while for his head to shake off the haze that had settled over it after he'd been knocked out, but once it had cleared, he immediately realized that this was a very, very bad position to be in, in a very, very bad place.

In such a situation, Kirk thought, it was always best to make some sort of crack. And in this instance, he said, "What? No gorgeous nurses to attend to me? What sorta Med Bay are you running?"

"I'm afraid I work alone now. My nurses have all died on me. No fault of theirs, really; I made a mistake in the sequencing."

That did _not_ sound the least bit pleasant to Kirk. After realizing his head wasn't strapped down, he angled his head up so that he could see who he was talking to. It was a man, that much he could tell, but beyond that, he knew nothing. "Who are you anyway?"

The dim figure he'd managed to see at the edge of his vision came closer, and Kirk found himself staring at a tall, gaunt man, with dark haunted eyes and a receding hairline, with whatever hair was left turned salt-and-pepper in color, though whether due to age or stress Kirk wasn't sure.

The man smiled, and though it was amiable enough, Kirk didn't miss the dark, fathomless look in his eyes: frightening eyes, cold eyes. For some odd reason, he thought of Spock when the Vulcan was being more emotionless that usual, but this was a Human, not a Vulcan, and the pure absence of any kind of emotion in this man's eyes was only made all the more frightening by that fact.

The man nodded at him. "I am Doctor Colin Cabral."

Oh, shit, Kirk thought. He was in big, _big_ trouble now. After what he'd heard from Rebecca and especially McCoy, this was _not_ the man he wanted to meet, not right now. But he chose to give no indication of his troubled thoughts, and instead, smiled. "Nice to meet you. Mind getting me out of here?"

Cabral shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I can't do that. I ran out of samples to test on, long ago, so I take what I can get. At the moment, since you are the only one who is awake and aware between you and your companion over there, I might as well start on you."

Kirk's eyes narrowed at that. "Companion?"

"The gentleman in the blue uniform. He had a medikit on him – I suppose he's a medical officer? Smart, for the captain to bring a medical officer with him on an Away Mission, though I wonder what you're doing on an Away Mission to begin with."

So Bones was nearby, which was good. Alive or dead, though, was the question. "Is he okay?"

"As okay as he will ever be. I think I knocked him out a little harder. After all, he was charging at me when I found you in the jungle, so I suppose he took a harder hit from my phaser than the rest of you did."

"And what about the others? What about my friends?"

"I left them in the brig. They'll stay there for a while. Your Vulcan friend, in particular, will have to wait. If the _Al Rashid's_ computers had not been destroyed during the landing, I would not have taken so much time doing the sequencing of the Vulcan genome on my own, but such is life. We must make-do with what we have."

So that meant McCoy and Spock were accounted for. That left only two more people. "What of the other two? The women."

"One I left in the brig. She will serve to keep my erstwhile colleague, Sarn, occupied for a while – a distasteful situation, but vital, since something entirely unpleasant might happen if I did not leave her there for him. As for the other… Well, I tried injecting her with selected genomes from the Rigel X butterfly (2), but it wasn't quite as effective as I had hoped." He bowed his head slightly in what Kirk thought was regret, but it soon became clear that it was the regret of a scientist who had encountered a minor but completely unexpected failure. "And I wanted to give her wings. She would have looked beautiful with them."

Kirk's blood froze in his veins. Which woman was Cabral talking about: Ensign Davies or Rebecca? Well, either fate didn't sound very nice to him, but being in the brig sounded marginally better than getting shot full of alien insect genomes. And didn't he say he'd left Spock in the brig too? Kirk was entirely certain his First Officer was likely trying to figure a way out, which meant a rescue party should come through the door of the Medical Bay any minute now.

At least, he _hoped_ so.

"…no such fate for you, I'm afraid," Cabral said, but his voice was distant, and Kirk realized that he had stepped out of Kirk's field of vision. However, Kirk did hear him moving around: the clatter of metal against metal as Cabral looked through something, but when Kirk heard the distinctive hiss and click of a hypospray vial loading, he prayed as hard as he could for the cavalry to come _now._

Once again Cabral appeared in Kirk's field of vision, a hypospray visible in his hand, and while the hypospray itself was an innocuous thing, there was something about Cabral and the way he held the thing that gave it an air of menace. He paused next to the biobed, hovering over Kirk like the nightmare doctor in a bad horror novel. "The Cardassian vole (3) is a very hardy species, to be sure, albeit neglected and persecuted because of its looks. But its genetic sequence indicates some promising, indeed, invaluable traits, which, if introduced into the Human genome, might provide some interesting side-effects."

Kirk choked. "A _Cardassian vole_?" He might've been no exobiologist, but even _he_ was familiar with the Cardassian vole: the ugliest, most disgusting creature in the entirety of the Alpha Quadrant. And as Cabral leaned down, the hypospray coming closer and closer to his neck (why was it _always_ at the neck?), Kirk wanted the cavalry to show up soon, preferably _right now,_ because if they didn't, he might end up with a face no person would love – or worse.

The hypospray had gone out of his field of vision, and he could just feel it against his skin. "This won't hurt a bit," Cabral whispered. "I promise."

Kirk heard the soft, normally inaudible click of the preliminary loading of the hypospray's vial, the sound as loud as the switch of a phaser from stun to kill. He squeezed his eyes shut, and in a flash of realization understood that there would be no rescue, that he would be left to die here – or worse, he would live, but with what, he did not know, and did not want to know.

But then, just before Cabral depressed the plunger, he heard the familiar sound of a door whooshing open, and when Cabral looked up, he was greeted by a phaser blast to the face, the hypospray flying out of his hand to land with a clatter elsewhere in the ruined Medical Bay. A few seconds later, Spock's face came into view, and Kirk could not recall a time when he had been more relieved than now to see the unsmiling, unemotional face of his First Officer.

"Where's Rebecca?" he asked as Spock undid the restraints that held him to the biobed. "Was she in the brig with you?"

"Yes, she was," Spock replied, "and right now she is seeing to Bones."

Kirk followed the quick glance that Spock shot over his shoulder, and when he turned to look he saw that Rebecca was currently removing McCoy's restraints, but not before she removed the gag over his mouth. This was followed by a stream of invectives so vile that Kirk couldn't help but smile at McCoy's inventiveness, but cringe as well, to a certain extent.

"Glad to see you're alive," Kirk remarked, getting back onto his feet and buckling the utility belt Spock handed to him around his hips.

But McCoy didn't respond: instead, he whipped out his hypospray, loaded the now-familiar tranquilizer vial, and jabbed it at Cabral's neck just as the man was getting up, dazed but relatively conscious after the stun blast. "There," McCoy muttered as Cabral went down again. "That should keep him out for a while."

"Perhaps it would be best if we had Scotty beam him up, and then have him placed in the brig," Spock suggested. "It will leave us with some time to discover what he did here, and collect evidence against him."

Kirk thought it was a decent suggestion, so he took out his communicator, and contacted Scotty, telling him to beam up the still-unconscious Cabral. "And make sure you search him when he gets up there before sticking him in the brig," Kirk added. "Don't want him to go into the brig with something he could use to get out of it."

"Right you are, Captain," Scotty said approvingly, and a moment later light danced and swirled around Cabral's form, followed by his quick dematerialization immediately after.

With Cabral gone, Kirk realized he managed to breathe a little easier, and he turned to Spock with a grateful grin on his face. "Took you guys long enough, but I'm glad you showed up anyway."

Spock nodded. "There were some difficulties in effecting our escape, but we managed it handily enough."

"Cabral mentioned that a Sarn was down there in the brig."

"Yes, we found him. Rebecca insisted on staying with him, but I convinced her not to do so."

Kirk frowned. "Why? If he was in some sort of trouble she might've been able to help him."

But the look on Spock's face told Kirk he wasn't going to get any answers soon, and he wondered at what had happened down in the brig. He also noticed that Rebecca seemed to avoid looking at Spock, choosing instead to focus on making sure McCoy was all right.

Deciding to test the waters again, to see if he would get some sort of reaction, Kirk added, "Cabral said he was leaving Rebecca there for him: mentioned something about 'keeping him occupied'."

This time, he _did_ get a reaction from Spock: but like most reactions from the Vulcan, they were very subtle. In this case, it took the form of a slight twitch of the eyebrow, and a very quick darkening of the eye. And Kirk knew what all of those things meant. What Cabral had tried to do was very, very bad, and it was a good thing that Spock had gotten her out of there before anything worse could have happened.

Kirk's communicator beeped, and Kirk flipped it open. "Kirk here."

"Sir, we've the fellow you had beamed up safe and secure in the brig," Scotty answered. "Looks like the good doctor dosed him up well; he was asleep for the entire ride. At any rate, we did find some items of interest on his person, and I'm thinking Mr. Spock will want to have a look at them."

"Excellent work Scotty. Give us a bit more time down here, and we'll be beaming up in a bit."

"Aye, aye, Captain." There was a pause, and there was no denying the slight thickening in Scotty's accent when he asked, "And what of Ensign Davies?"

Kirk inhaled, and exhaled slowly. "Dead, by Cabral's own confession." He didn't go into detail – then again, he never had to. In the year since the _Enterprise_ started her ongoing expedition, there had been a great many losses of life. Although they had come to expect it now, it was still hard to lose one of the crew.

There was sadness in Scotty's voice when he replied, "Aye. Sad to have lost her; she was a fine person, a fine crewmember." More silence, and then, a bit more briskly, "Well now, Captain, just give me the word when you wish to be beamed up, and it shall be so."

"Thank you, Scotty." Kirk glanced at Spock as he put his communicator back into its case on his belt. "Think you can figure out what the hell Cabral was doing around here?"

Spock glanced around the Medical Bay, perhaps trying to figure out any possible places where Cabral could have conducted his experiments or stored any of his research notes. At last, he replied, "I believe I can, given some time, but comprehension of his notes will require Bones' expertise, as well as the expertise of the other geneticists on the _Enterprise_."

"Oh my God!"

Pulling out his phaser more on instinct than necessity, Kirk whipped around to the source of the cry, but after a tense second he realized that it was just Rebecca reacting to something she had seen as she opened what looked like a laboratory, closed off to one side of the Medical Bay.

Whatever it was, though, it must have been ugly, because both she and McCoy looked a little green in the face, and that was saying something. Kirk had never known McCoy to bat an eyelash at _anything_, no matter how disgusting. Sure, he'd swear and complain and carry on, but look as if he was ready to puke? Not likely.

Which meant that whatever they had seen, it was _not_ pretty – and Kirk was sure he did not want to see it. So instead, he stayed where he was, and asked, "What is it?"

"We just found Ensign Davies," McCoy replied, his throat moving visibly as he swallowed hard. He glanced at Spock, obviously looking for something else to do. "What's he doing?"

"Digging up Cabral's research," Kirk replied, gesturing to where Spock was seated in front of a console, attention focused on the screen in front of him, and barely paying them any mind as he scanned through directories and file systems.

McCoy snorted, his mouth twisting into a wry smirk. He strode over to a nearby cabinet, tried to open it, failed, and cussed out the thing while banging it a few times until it finally opened. Smiling triumphantly, he reached in, and brought out what appeared to be a stack of data pads.

"Found it," McCoy stated, putting down the stack he was holding onto the countertop and pulling out several more data pads. "Typical researcher: never rely on the main computer system to store your research, always making extra copies and hiding them away like a squirrel with a nut."

"I have also been able to access whatever data was left on the _Al Rashid's_ computer database," Spock said then, turning to look at Kirk from the console. "I will recalibrate my tricorder to allow it to transfer the data to the _Enterprise's_ computer, and from there we will be able to read any information that may have been left intact despite the damage. I am hoping, in particular, that the captain's logs will still be accessible."

"Good work, Spock." And Kirk really hoped that was the case; he wanted to know what the hell the captain had done during this whole crisis, or if something had happened to force the incident to happen.

He looked around him: at the damaged Medical Bay, at the now-closed door behind which lay Ensign Davies in all her gruesome fate, at the shelves and shelves of vials containing he knew not what. The glint of something metallic on the floor caught his eye, and when he went over to find out what it was, he realized it was the hypospray Cabral had been about to use on him. With a grim resolve, he removed the vial, and tossed it over to McCoy.

"I hope you got all the information you can find," he said, "because I want to find out what Cabral was doing here, and what happened to the rest of the crew."

There was a tone in his voice, he knew, that brooked no argument, and he also saw the acknowledgement on his Chief Medical Officer's face, as McCoy nodded slowly, and put the vial in a separate pouch on his utility belt. "You'll get your answers, Jim."

"What about Sarn?"

Kirk turned to Rebecca. "You mean the guy who was with you in the brig?"

She nodded. "He didn't look too good when Commander Spock and I left him there to get to you guys."

Kirk blinked. _Commander_ Spock? He shot a quick glance at his First Officer, but the Vulcan was too focused on his work – or rather, seemed determined to ignore Rebecca. Now this _really_ bugged him: Rebecca never called Spock by his title unless they were on the bridge, or on official business. Well, this Away Mission _was_ official business, but it was just the four of them. And she hadn't been calling him "Commander Spock" when they started all this, had she?

But that was unimportant right now. What was important was that they had to get back up to the _Enterprise,_ and, he decided, bring Sarn along with them. So he nodded at Rebecca, and said, "Bring him up here, then, so we can get Scotty to beam us all back up."

"No."

Kirk turned to Spock, who had gotten to his feet at the question. "Is something wrong, Mr. Spock?"

Spock's face was devoid of all emotion, as expected, but there was something in his gaze that told Kirk he would keep on arguing his point until Kirk gave in. "I do not think it necessary for Doctor Sanders to go and fetch Sarn herself. I will need to remain here to monitor the data transfer; as such, I will take Sarn up to the _Enterprise_ myself when I am through."

And when Kirk saw the way Rebecca's jaw tightened at that, he _knew_ something was wrong. But he also knew there was nothing to be gained from arguing with Spock, so he decided to just agree. "Very well then. Scotty, three to beam up."

Rebecca opened her mouth, eyes flashing as she prepared to argue, but Kirk just gave her one look, reminding her of her place. At this moment, he was her commanding officer, and he would not argue with her over this. In response, her mouth clamped shut, but he could tell, from the way she stomped over to join him and McCoy in preparation for beaming up, that he had only made her angrier.

Oh, he thought with a smirk as the tiny little firefly lights of his dematerializing self shimmered around him, he'd _definitely_ have to find out what went down in the brig.

--+--

The last time McCoy had seen Rebecca really, _really_ pissed about something was when he'd informed their group of friends that he and Nancy Cunningham had broken up. Now, he suspected Rebecca was the sort of woman who yelled and carried on and threw things when her temper got the better of her (she _was_ a Kirk, after all), but right at that moment, she was sitting in front of her workstation, that aforementioned temper an almost-visible thundercloud around her as she pretended to read the medical journal open on her computer screen.

Either way, McCoy preferred this sort of brooding, as opposed to the other sort, the kind she did when she was obviously thinking about Gamble and trying not to show it.

"Well," he drawled as he walked up to her, "you look mad as a hellcat in the middle of a lightning storm." He smiled wryly. "What's gotten your dander up?"

"Nothing," Rebecca replied, not even looking up at him to acknowledge his presence.

"Sure it's nothing. I mean, I've seen you shoot bolts at Spock's back, and while I understand the sentiment – Lord knows _I_ do it – I don't ever recall you doing that. And judging from the way you look right now, I'd have to say that whatever Spock's done, it's upset you a lot." McCoy leaned back, watching as Rebecca's shoulders drooped a little. "Tell me what happened in the brig."

Rebecca sighed, and turned her chair so that she was facing him. "We had an argument about whether or not I was to stay with Sarn." She smiled up at him then. "When you have someone who's a patient in front of you, you'd want to stay. You and I, we swore the Hippocratic Oath before we started our careers as doctors, and we swore to uphold it to the best of our abilities. I wanted to stay with Sarn, make sure he was alright, but Spock wouldn't let me."

"But that's not just it, is it?" McCoy sensed something was going on here, something that didn't quite fit in with the rest of the story. He understood Rebecca's sentiment, sure, but even he knew that rescuing the Captain if he was in trouble always took top priority. Moreover, based on her files Rebecca had never shown any disposition to this sort of behavior before. So: why now?

Her sideways glance away from him told him plenty. He frowned. "This have anything to do with Gamble?"

"Sort of," Rebecca replied, after a hesitant silence. "I didn't think I could find it in myself to get angry, not after what happened. And when I got angry at Spock, to _feel_ it again…" She laughed quietly, embarrassed. "I wanted to hold onto it for as long as I could."

McCoy sighed, but smiled wryly. "Figures. You're a Kirk – naturally the first thing you'd find is your temper."

Rebecca's eyes twinkled a little with that mischief he remembered he'd seen before in her eyes, at the Academy, but which he had not seen since she first came to the _Enterprise._ "One thing that ties me and Jim together, I should think." Her gaze quickly turned solemn, and she looked down at her hands, which were lying, palm up, on her lap. "I guess I should apologize to Spock now."

"Nah," McCoy replied with a snort, "he's used to it. What'd he do anyway?"

When Rebecca explained to him what had happened, he raised an eyebrow. "So he pulled rank on you? That's new."

"Well, I wasn't any better," Rebecca said with a small shrug. "I insisted that my oath as a doctor was more important than saving you and Jim. I can see now why he'd pull rank."

"Maybe," McCoy muttered, but he wasn't so sure on that. While under Starfleet regulations Spock had every right to do what he did, there was something about the way he had gone right to rank-pulling – something he'd _never_ done before – that bothered him. It was the fastest way to get Rebecca to leave Sarn, but it wasn't as if Spock needed her to get both him and Jim out of their sticky predicament with Cabral. Spock had managed to get them out of much worse before all by his lonesome.

This only meant there was some other reason behind what Spock had done. But what the hell could it be?

McCoy looked over his shoulder when he heard the door open. "Speak of the devil," he muttered, because Spock was coming towards them, stride purposeful.

The Vulcan nodded a greeting to them both, but afterwards, turned to look at McCoy. "Am I interrupting anything?"

McCoy glanced at Rebecca, checking with her to see if this was an encounter she wanted to escape – after all, there could only be one reason why the green-blooded hobgoblin had shown up at this time. Rebecca, for her part, was looking at Spock with a calm gaze, and in no way looked as if she wanted McCoy to give her a way out.

"No," he said at last, "you weren't interrupting anything." Sensing that Spock's next request would be to talk to Rebecca in private, he backed off, retreating to another workstation that was some distance away from the two to afford them some privacy, but not _too_ far away that he couldn't keep an eye on them.

To the casual observer, the discussion between Spock and Rebecca would have seemed relatively normal: they could have been talking about a shift change, or the weather, for all anyone knew.

But McCoy was no casual observer, and never had been. These were two people he had known for a significant amount of time: Spock because they had worked on the same starship for a year and had been in close contact with one another during that year; and Rebecca because he'd known her at the Academy. So he did not miss the slight hesitation in Spock's stance, nor the way his gaze dropped ever so slightly to avoid her eyes. As for Rebecca's suddenly scarlet cheeks, well, that was something anyone with eyes could interpret.

McCoy was still working on how to read lips, but he could sure as hell read body language pretty well.

At length, the little discussion was concluded with awkward nods from both parties, and Spock turned and left the Medical Bay. But McCoy waited until he was gone, and Rebecca was back in her chair, before he emerged from where he had been watching them.

"Lemme guess," he said, trying for sarcasm even if he knew he looked and sounded worried. "He tried to upbraid you for insubordination."

He was somewhat surprised when Rebecca shook her head. "He wasn't telling me off for that," she murmured. "It was about something else entirely."

McCoy didn't say anything, merely watched her, expecting her to tell him what was wrong. But after several moments of awkward, heavy silence and she hadn't said anything, he asked, "Is it something you can't tell me?"

"Not really. It's just…very, very embarrassing."

That bothered McCoy somewhat, but he grinned, and shrugged. "We're doctors, Becky. You and I can talk about the most embarrassing things without being embarrassed." He tilted his head then. "But if you still can't find it in yourself to just talk, I can get us some Saurian brandy. Maybe that'll help."

She laughed, and shook her head. "No, don't bother. But I wouldn't say no to a drink later."

"Fair enough. So, what'd the two of you talk about?"

Rebecca seemed to hesitate a bit, and her response was clearly a delaying tactic on her part. "He asked me if Sarn touched my face."

McCoy blinked. _That_ was weird. "What'd you tell him?"

"I said he hadn't. Sarn had touched me on the arm, sure, but aside from that we didn't touch each other."

"Did he say why it was so important?"

Rebecca hesitated, then sighed, and answered, "Apparently, if Sarn had managed to touch my face, no matter for how short a time, it would have initiated some sort of telepathic bond between the two of us."

"Telepathic bond?" McCoy asked. "You mean like a mind meld?" He had seen Spock perform a mind meld before, for various reasons and on various entities, but he hadn't heard anything about telepathic bonding.

"Sort of," Rebecca replied. "He said it was something like a marriage proposal, something accomplished by Vulcans prior to their mating rituals."

McCoy gaped at her. "_Marriage proposal?_ _Mating rituals?_"

Color rose immediately to her cheeks, and she added hastily, "Spock said since I didn't seem to be mirroring any of Sarn's symptoms, he said I was likely safe, that Sarn hadn't been able to link to me telepathically."

"What sort of symptoms? And what the hell kind of mating ritual is he talking about?" McCoy knew he was practically bristling at all this talk about engagements and mating rituals, partly because of his own terrible experience with marriage; partly because Rebecca was involved, however indirect or accidental that involvement might have been; and partly because he had a pretty good idea what Spock was talking about.

Rebecca shook her head. "He wasn't very forthcoming about it. Either way, he said I likely wasn't linked to Sarn, so there was no need to explain it further."

"Screw forthcoming," McCoy snarled, and turned on his heel, heading for the turbolift. If his assumptions were correct, then it was a good thing the Vulcan had ordered Rebecca out of there. The only thing was, he had to make _absolutely sure_ that no such telepathic link between Rebecca and Sarn existed, because if so much as a shred of the link was there, then it could only mean a whole pit of trouble.

The turbolift door opened on the bridge, and he strode in, ignoring everyone else except the one person he wanted to talk to.

Spock looked up at him as he approached, his face unperturbed. "Is something the matter, Doctor?"

"Yeah, there is." McCoy barely managed to keep himself from growling at the Vulcan. "You and me, we have to talk. _Now._"

Spock's head inclined slightly in curiosity, but he nodded. "Of course, Doctor. Please, lead the way."

McCoy nodded sharply, and the two of them got into the turbolift, heading towards McCoy's quarters. As soon as they were safely inside and out of earshot of anyone, McCoy turned on Spock, and demanded, "Where're you keeping Sarn?"

"He is staying in guest quarters given to him by Kirk for the duration of his stay aboard the ship." Spock paused, eyeing him. "What is this about?"

"You know damn well what this is about, you pointy-eared bastard." McCoy glared ferociously at Spock. "Answer me straight, Spock, and none of your Vulcan prevarications on the subject, either: will Rebecca in any way suffer as a result of Sarn's _pon farr_?"

_That_ must have gotten Spock's attention, because the Vulcan went very, very still, as if he had not expected McCoy to say what he had said. McCoy smirked, and tilted his head. "The documents on the subject were hard to acquire, let me tell you, since you Vulcans are so secretive about it. But I know about it because I studied the medical logs of the _NX-01_ _Enterprise_, and there was a log of their Vulcan subcommander, T'Pol, undergoing _pon farr_ while onboard (4)."

"I know the logs of which you speak," Spock said, "and I have read them myself."

"Then you know that the log's also very patchy, and it doesn't say anything about a telepathic bond being needed as part of the _pon farr_ ritual. And that's what bothers me: as far as I could tell from what you told Rebecca, Sarn's _pon farr_ might actually manifest in her, too."

Spock's eyes narrowed slightly. "How did you find out? I told her very little as it stood."

"It wasn't hard piecing the clues together, even if you left out a lot of things in your explanation to Rebecca." McCoy leveled his best glare at Spock. "Now, you understand my concern. I can't have my best trauma surgeon in heat, especially since it's got nothing to do with her."

"_Pon farr_ is nothing like 'going into heat,' as you so put it," Spock stated, and McCoy was glad to note that he seemed a little miffed by the idea. "And regarding Rebecca, I can assure you right now that she and Sarn are not connected. As you have witnessed, a mind meld requires that the Vulcan performing it place his or her hand on the being they wish to meld with; in the case of most humanoid species, it means contact with the face. Since Sarn did not touch her on the face, I believe it logical to assume that there was no telepathic link established between the two of them, hence Rebecca being safe from Sarn's more…illogical urges."

"Uh huh," McCoy muttered, not quite convinced just yet. "And how sure are you that Sarn won't just up and look for her himself?"

"He has confined himself to his quarters, with the express request that no one disturb his solitude." There was tension in Spock's voice when he spoke, and McCoy wondered if it was from anger or from something else. "I must also request that you cease questioning me about this matter. It is not something we Vulcans enjoy talking about, and we make it a point not to discuss or interfere in the _pon farr_ of another."

McCoy raised an eyebrow. "And yet you interfered with Sarn's. You got Rebecca the hell out of there."

"It was to protect her," Spock stated, voice going flat. "I knew she would be harmed by Sarn's _pon farr,_ hence I took steps to ensure her safety. That cannot be considered interference."

McCoy nodded, finally allowing himself to relax. "Good," he muttered. "As long as Becky's safe."

There was silence for a while, and then Spock said, "If you will permit, might I ask a personal question?"

McCoy blinked, and looked up at the Vulcan, wondering what was going on in his head. When had the Vulcan wanted to know anything personal about anyone? "Shoot."

"Is there perhaps something behind your inquiries, some other reason underlining your concern for Rebecca?"

"What're you talking about?"

Spock inclined his head slightly, and replied: "I theorize that your concern stems from a romantic attraction to her."

McCoy choked on his own saliva at that statement, and stared, horrified, at Spock. While anyone could have easily said those exact same words, to hear them coming from the cold, rational Vulcan only made them seem more real, more solid.

It was the reality of those words – formerly ephemeral and thus easily dealt with – that caught McCoy completely by surprise.

"You're imagining things," he said roughly, trying to convince himself that every word he said was true. "Becky's a friend and a colleague." He wanted to say "nothing more," but that was too much of a lie for him to get through his teeth. "Why're you asking?"

"I have seen how emotionally you respond to her, and I had assumed that it was borne of some romantic connection, but your answer tells me that I was wrong. I only wished to prove my theory correct, or incorrect, as the case may be."

"Why're you interested anyway?" McCoy had tried to sound casual, but even he heard the heat in his words.

If Spock noted it, he didn't show it, and instead was calm and cool and matter-of-fact as he moved towards McCoy's door. "I was curious, that is all." He nodded his head. "Is there anything else you wish to speak to me about?"

"No… No, nothing. Thank you for coming, Commander."

McCoy waited until Spock was gone, but even when the door had shut, he didn't move. At length, though, he swallowed, tasting how bitter the lie was on the back of his tongue, and muttered a heartfelt "Damn it to hell and back" before exiting his quarters, and heading right back to Medical Bay.

* * *

NOTES:

1 - This is a reference to the episode "Arena" from the original series.

2 - A type of insect native to the planet Rigel X, bearing a striking resemblance to Terran butterflies, hence the name. They were featured in the _Star Trek: Enterprise_ episode "Broken Bow."

3 - The Cardassian vole is a rodent-like mammal native to the planet of Cardassia Prime, home planet of the Cardassian species. It is almost hairless, has six legs, and has similar facial impressions as those seen on the Cardassians themselves. They breed like tribbles, and have a similar appetite, but are not nearly as adorable as tribbles – in fact, it might be said they are one of the ugliest creatures in the galaxy, if not _the_ ugliest. It has been featured in one episode of _Star Trek: Enterprise,_ and in a handful of episodes of _Deep Space 9._

4 - As told in the _Star Trek: Enterprise _episode "Bounty." This happened during stardate 2153. The "telepathic link" requirement was mentioned in the _Star Trek: Voyager_ episode "Blood Fever," which occurred during stardate 2373. Although the events in "Blood Fever" occur a hundred-plus years after the timeline being used for this story (in the same manner the events of "Bounty" occur a hundred-plus years before), I think it's safe to combine cultural details scattered across various series when discussing the customs and traditions of a particular race – in this case, the Vulcan race.


End file.
